Captain Frost
by AntiqueWindows
Summary: Kelly Gibbs didn't die in the car accident with her mother, Shannon. She was kidnapped and forced into the world of spooks and intrigue. Now that she has escaped will she finally be able to rediscover who she once was? How will her father react to her return? Who will she become now? Rated T for now though the rating may shift to M for violence.
1. from the ashes

**AN: I have never written a story before. This is my first attempt at anything of the sort. I welcome your comments, feedback, criticisms, and anything else you may have to offer me to better my stories or writing. I have taken a lot of liberty with the timeline and claim creative license to do whatever with it. I do not own NCIS or Criminal minds nor any of its wonderful characters.**

It was over. I dropped the last torch on the pyre that used to be the Institute and walked away.

This was so surreal. How long had I dreamed about this moment? It was finally here and instead of dancing around the flames, I was just tired. I had wished for death for so long and now that I finally had life, I didn't know what to. I rubbed my wrist feeling the skin there for the first time in years. The bracelet ridges would probably always dent my skin. It had been there too long not to.

Nothing would be the same from here on out. I never expected freedom to feel this way. It felt felt light and airy, but it also felt like jumping off a cliff to a dark bottom. Being here was suffocating, but it was also safe. I knew my surroundings and what to expect, I knew what to do and how to act. The routine had become my life and I could sometimes hardly remember anything before that. But the before was what I was after. I had reached my breaking point months ago when it became apparent there was no end. Losing Yael had been the turning point. I could doubt myself and put off what I knew had to be done until that point.

I found myself in a Berlin hotel that overlooked the city. I had been here before, but everything seemed more peaceful when I wasn't looking over my shoulder everyday. All I could think about was my Dad. I wanted to go home. I wanted to stop moving, stop hiding, stop constantly trying to stay 10 steps ahead. I was tired of living within the minds of other people.

Zetes, the man responsible for all of this, had taught us everything we knew. We were all brought into the fold to create a team that would act as force to infiltrate secret organizations and underground institutions. Zetes wanted to set free children from sex traffickers, stop cartels, and act as spies against enemies of the state without officially working for the state. Child soldiers in the Congo and Somalia had been his inspiration. Given the right direction and training, we could all be used for the "greater good."

In the United States, those that work covert operations are employed and regulated by Homeland Security. They can be fired, hired, promoted and are always paid for the work they do. That wasn't how Project 7 worked. We were kidnapped, lured, and beaten into submission in a series of twisted games and scenarios designed to sharpen skills and make weapons out of children.

I started small with Zetes accompanying me, then slowly, as the team grew, he took a backseat and allowed us to carry them out. Once I was fully trained and deemed capable it was my job to create assets out of the others. I was the first. Slowly the others joined and were eliminated or died in action. I rubbed at the sores on my wrists absently remembering how many self-destructed just to escape. Most never made it past the initial screening. Even more were weeded out once the torture sessions began. It took a strong mind to withstand the first half. And an even stronger spirit to not crack under the month long torture trial.

After your mind was exhausted, and your spirited beaten, but not destroyed through sheer willpower, Zetes would begin building your loyalty and confidence. One of his defining strengths was the ability to convince others that his inflated sense of self was the real him. He even managed to pass these traits on to those that worked for him. Though I was never among them. I've been with the institute since I was 8 years old and I've been privy to the real Zetes more times than his ego would like. He could fool the others. He could convince everyone that he was the second coming of Jesus who would save the world and deliver us from evil. I wasn't fooled, I knew the man behind the bravado was vulnerable, but not weak. Intimidating, but not infallible. Filled with good intentions, but evil. Above all, he desired to be exalted for his works. Praised for the saving of humanity from the evils of the world. He was a monster that misled and twisted children to be who he wanted them to be with little regard for their own personal cost. In them, he nurtured and grew a Stockholm syndrome so intense therapy would have been useless. They were mindless drones. It was in those final moments staring into the fire that burned my eyes with its intensity that I realized you can't save them all. Not everyone wants to be saved. We all have things that we're willing to die for. They made their choice, and I had made mine.

Whatever he had done to me, it helped me now. I didn't feel damaged but I knew I was. I had no trouble recalling and remembering some of the worst years of my life. I wasn't reeling or trying to forget. Despite everything, I could see the good. I was better in some ways even if I would never regain the things I had lost. It was better to be positive for once. At this point, being angry over things I couldn't change was poisonous. The familiar feeling of cool impassivity passed over me like salve on a burn. I welcomed the cool embrace of control and calm.


	2. Begin Again

"A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare

to the jeweled vision of a life started anew." ― Aberjhani

My eyes squinted at the harsh sunlight that as I walked on to the uncovered tarmac of the Berlin Schönefeld Airport. Summer was coming in full force this year and for once I was enjoying the change of the seasons even if it was a particularly sweltering day that made me regret wearing sport leggings, a t-shirt and tennis shoes.

My steps felt lighter and I couldn't help the smile that pulled across my face serenely while bumping past other passengers. Sinking heavily into my seat I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding releasing the stress of the past couple of weeks. Berlin was wonderful with its bustling streets and sweet pastry aromas that stained the air, but I had had enough. Europe had been quite the change over the years for some like me with such humble american beginnings. It had changed me and morphed my perspective that no doubt would have probably been skewed and different had I stayed in America my whole life . Perhaps someday this rich continent would no longer be the backdrop to my night mares.

It felt weird to no longer be chained to some higher purpose. Making my own decisions wasn't something I was entirely familiar with and I didn't exactly trust myself to make all the right ones. But even that gave me a thrill. These would be my mistakes that would rest solely upon me. I could be a stupid teenager and get piercings and tattoos I would later regret. I couldn't wait to be young and dumb.

Passport in hand I realized the first thing I would need to do was change my name…. I had died years ago so the passport I used was one under a false name: Anouk Bellini. Perhaps a touch too unique to be the undercover guise it was meant to be now that I really looked at it. Oh well, I shrugged internally, the officials in customs hadn't batted an eye and that's what mattered. I'd have to remember to send Donnie a "thank you for smuggling me out the country" card once I landed. I don't think they make those at gift stores, but handcrafted gifts were always more personal.

I had several falsified document, passports, and identification cards that bore multiple names with varying ages. Crafted and perfected by the lovely Donnie to ensure easy travel between countries without alerting officials. At 16, I couldn't exactly be honest about my age without the "Where are your parents?" questions. Most of documents placed me in my early twenties which was easy enough since customs was easier outside the United States.

The wave of exhaustion that I had been holding at bay washed over me as I allowed myself to let my guard lower a bit. These past few weeks had been trying and were finally beginning to catch up with me. I had been ingesting nothing but coffee and whatever snacks I could find at the bottom of my bag. The unnecessary surveillance swipe of the area calmed my nerves further. Everyone on this flight had been pre-screened and accounted for. Anyone or anything out of place would have probably prompted me to deplane immediately. Was that excessive? Perhaps, but I certainly haven't survived this long letting the small things slide.

Better paranoid than dead. I pulled my mother's t-shirt quilt over my legs and snuggled into my USMC t-shirt a little closer, finally letting myself get comfortable. My mom had sewn together all the t-shirts my father brought home from his travels and made a comfort blanket of sorts for me when I missed him. When he returned he would tell me stories of the places he had been and anything he could that wasn't classified. Mom would then add the shirt to the collection that resulted in a patchwork quilt of colors and fonts that clashed terribly and I loved it. My USMC shirt was old and ratty enough to be unassuming. There were million them out there and with military bases littering Europe, it didn't unwanted draw attention. Even still, I hadn't allowed myself the indulgence of being seen with either of these items in public. Before I washed it, the blanket had smelled of the wooded closet I had kept all my personal effects stored in. Information was the crown jewel of the underground world and I refused to allow anyone or anything know I had something to lose.

My clothes up until this point had all been designer. Anything that seemed impersonal and cold. They meant nothing to me since, in the end, it was all apart of the shield I wore to protect myself and identity. By extension, this included my dad. It might be reckless now, but I deserved the comfort after everything I had been through with the institute being destroyed and my own mutinous actions, though justified, that I still hadn't fully accepted. Besides, waking up in the middle screaming and covered in cold sweats was rather conspicuous and my parents tended to keep the nightmares away so allowed myself this one thing. They were safely net in the chaos all these years and the only thing that kept me sane enough to keep pushing through the madness to find the light at the end of the tunnel. I kept my mother's memory with me all these years as a my solace, but she was also my greatest guilt. I had let her down. Failed her. She was dead because of me. It was my fault. No matter how hard I tried to shake the feeling I couldn't. The familiar cool of the locket she and my father had given me on my 8th and final birthday home brushed against my heart and chilled me.

I shook my head and resettled myself as the plane ascended. I couldn't get wrapped up in these emotions. I needed to keep my head on straight for when I landed in the states. I had meetings and sessions to attend and I needed to be on my A game for it. At some point I would need to face my father as well. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was an NCIS agent still living in DC in my childhood home. My throat tightened at the thought of seeing him again. Of course I had dreamed about what it would be like to finally come home. To be reunited with my only living parent who I knew had missed me dearly. But would he still love the monster I had become? Would he be able to stomach the things I had done and the person I was now?

It seemed easier to avoid him, but I had spent my life full of regrets and I couldn't let this be one of them. He was all I had and he deserved to know the truth, even if the death of 8 year old Kelly Gibbs was easier to swallow than being a spy. I always dreamed of being reunited with him again but what exactly was I supposed to say to him? How does one begin to explain that their death was fabricated and the grief you've caused unnecessary? How could I prove that I was who I said I was. DNA testing was the obvious answer but would he listen long enough to even entertain the option? You can't exactly walk up to someone's house, ring the doorbell, and claim to be someone that died almost a decade ago. Things like that get you shot. I certainly would if I thought someone was trying to pull a cruel joke.

My father hadn't exactly healed in the healthiest of ways. I checked in on him religiously, and covertly, to ensure he was safe and happy. He rarely was. After a string of wives and failed relationships with redheads that simply didn't measure up to what he had with my mom, he resigned himself to his basement to make boats alternating between coffee and bourbon as a form of self medication. I felt the familiar sting of tears just thinking about how devastated he was as I watched helplessly from the sidelines. I wanted so badly to be there for him. We should have healed together. Buried my mother together and moved on, not unchanged, but better off than either of us were now. My heart ached for him, for us. I knew he wasn't perfect, but I had special kind of resentment for the women that marched in and out of his life. Call me biased, but despite being a poor husband he wasn't infallible and didn't deserve the vitriol thrown his way. I could have strangled Diane for twisting the knife in further when she left. For draining his bank account. I wanted to punch Jenny Shepard for discarding him like yesterdays trash when he didn't fit into her career goals. She was still to blinded by vengeance from what happened to her father and her own career goals. I almost scoffed at the memory, if she only knew how deep in her father was. Just because bad things happen, doesn't make the person involved a victim.

He was the happiest I've seen him when he was with her. I thought perhaps now he'll heal. He'll be okay now. But life comes at you fast, and it ended like all the others. Only the time, dad was on the receiving end of unfulfilled promises. Stephanie Flynn was nice and amusing. Honestly, she was the only one I could have tolerated as a step mother had I stuck around too see it all play out. Though I doubt he would have married so many times if I have "survived"….

 **Passengers, please prepare yourselves.**

 **We will be landing in Barcelona in 15 minutes**

I started suddenly at the announcement that rang out. Had I really been lost in thought for 3 and half hours? As the plane slowly came to life with passengers waking their companions and flight attendants collecting up last minute requests, I folded my blanket neatly and placed it inside my backpack. I had travelled light this trip and had all my clothes and shoes shipped ahead of me to the safe house in DC. I wasn't old enough to acquire an apartment or hotel on my own no matter how much money I had. Faking my age and name woud only get me so far in the states considering I was officially going "back on the radar." My fakes were only supposed to get me through customs. They weren't stable enough to establish a life here on my own. My connections in the government would set me back up a permanent identity and social security number. Something, anything to ground me here. Usually spies hated being tied down or stuck in one area. Its best to never get too attached to one place or time when you never know when you'll have leave. Or, you know, get barred from entering ever again. Life is full surprises.

I prayed that once I did find my father he would let me stay with him again. I had been alone my whole life despite living in an estate with several others. But the institute headquarters were cold, clinical, and sickeningly ostentatious. I couldn't wait to retreat back to the warmth of my single family home with my dad. Though I would never admit it outloud, I was starved for affection and love that wasn't conditional. Far too many times I could feel myself sinking further into the underground world, high off the thrills that would burn with excitement and leave me cold once it was all over. Once you get addicted to the rush and the high of successful assignments and close calls, it does something to you. It creates a hunger that can only be sated by diving back in head first. The idea of doing anything else is so boring it could kill you. But I had tasted the cool-aid of espionage and lies only to find the taste bitter and draining. If you live long enough, you'll get that one mission that takes you just a little too deep and tests your limits far past what you could handle, despite having a generous mental margin for the unexpected. It makes you sit and think: In the grand scheme of things, does any of this really matter? Am I really ready to die for this crap? Reality washes over you like a bucket of ice water and suddenly it's not so fun and you realize if you don't stop now, you may never get out.

Too many spies never get that realization. They just die. Lost a lot of good people that way. For others, they are in too deep and couldn't really do anything else even if the opportunity arose. You can see it in their eyes. They've accepted their damnation and resign themselves to their fate. I've seen that look and it scares the hell out of me. People like don't have limits, there's nothing holding them here. Those spies are sometimes worse than the die hard, system patriots. You can't mess with people with no sense self preservation. They'll kill you.

I lined up to leave last instinctively to keep from being vulnerable from behind. We all shuffled out, some half awake knowing this was just another point of transfer. Others walked out determinedly to head home for some rest. I stepped out in the warm sun and looked into the sky painted an array of pink, purple, and yellow bleeding into each other like a watercolor painting. The air was cozier here during the late afternoon. The sun having sunk further into the west to rest on the horizon blanketed the air with a much more bearable heat.

I wanted nothing more than to head back to another hotel and rest for the day having not slept on the plane, but I really needed to put some distance between myself and this continent. The faster I could get back to DC the faster I could meet my contact in DC and turn in my reports. I shuffled into the airport finding some relief form the scorching Spanish heat. My connecting flight didn't leave for another hour so I had some time to kill. The airport had a Starbucks and while I had had much more superior coffee and tea from local cafes, I decided I should get used to the dominance of franchises. I waited in line and perused the menu in the unusually sleepy cafe. I needed sleep and decided to forgo the caffeine and save it for my meeting when the extra espresso shot would keep me alert for a long day of paperwork and briefing sessions.

"Bienvenidos a Starbucks! Puedo ayudarte?", chirped a dark haired woman named Carlota whose name was scribbled loopily on her black name tag.

I smiled sleepily and responded, "Sí, me gustaría un té verde helado con fresas y un croissant tostado."

"Bueno!," she said happily. I admired her. I would be fried if I had to work in an airport and still maintain a happy disposition all day. Once I paid her, and she set off to make my order I settled at nearby table nestled next to the window that showcased the Barcelona cityscape. A shrill next to me pulled me out my thoughts. I fished out my disposable phone and answered curiously, "Hello?"

"K.G.,Glad you actually answered my call. Are you stateside, yet?" I rolled my eyes. "You know they have rules about phones on planes right? I haven't arrived just yet. I have a short layover in Barcelona and then I'll be landing in DC."

Amus was one of my government contacts and a wonderful friend. He was one of the few people on this earth aware of my legal name and people in the spy world was usually a big no-no. Forming attachment to people wasn't a good idea since you never know when business would turn you against each other. Nothing personal really, just business. But it's impossible to never trust anyone ever. The few friends I have managed to collect are irreplaceable. If being buddy buddy isn't an option, save enough lives and you can skate by by cashing in collected favors that let you live to see another day.

"Good to know. Listen, just a heads up, you're walking into more than a debriefing session when you get back. I can't say too much over an unsecured line but be ready for a proposition to be thrown your way." I looked up to see Carlota walk over and hand me my food and I smiled my thanks.

"By proposition you mean I'm gonna be asked to do something."

"Yeah, big time. No more spook work, but they ain't exactly gonna let you enroll into your local high school and become a cheerleader."

"Yeah I figured as much," I sighed. "Thanks for the heads up, Amus."

"Dont worry too much, you might actually like it. I'll see you when you get here."

I hung up the phone and shoved it back into my bag. Suddenly I wanted to extend my trip out for a few days. Take my time getting back not in any rush to become some government errand chick. That's not an option though. The feds are a petty bunch that love to make your life hell by wrapping you up in procedural BS like gutting your apartment of black mold "randomly." Getting your apartment torn up and material items confiscated by guys in hazmat suits tests your patience more that you think it would. I've certainly killed for less.

All that in mind, I quickly ate my food and trashed the remains. The faster I got this over with, the faster I could find a way out of it. Grabbing my stuff I headed over to my gate and lined up with the rest of the passengers.

I got to my seat, pulled out my blanket, and stuffed my bag under my feet. Might as well get some rest.

 **Washington, DC**

Standing in the middle of the nation's capital usually left most people in awe of the history, sense of belonging, and gobsmacked at the power that lined the streets. I, however, felt nothing. I knew the secrets, the deception, the politics, and propaganda that went into propping this place up on its pedestal. I felt numb. I loved my country, but I certainly had no delusions about. But I also felt an internal pull that wanted to take me just outside of town and clambering back home.

I hailed a taxi from the street and gave him the directions to the an unmarked building in the middle of town. Stepping out of the cab I stared up at the medium sized block shaped building. It was chunky and looked like rough clay that had been scraped on the side of a cheese grater with it's rough outside texture. Most would pass it off as a large, general office building.

Despite my work diligent work to protect this country, those that do covert operations aren't exactly trusted or wanted in government buildings. By definition our work is illegal, so I can't exactly be seen strolling up the stairs of the Department of Defense. Spies are hired because they are efficient and unpredictable. They're the redheaded stepchildren of government workers. You ruin the wholesome image of the family, and tend to not know your place in the land of bureaucracy and hierarchies since you don't really answer to anyone when you do contract work. While necessary and useful, they don't exactly need you getting any bright ideas, going rogue, and blowing up government buildings. Hence the inconspicuous meeting place. Nobody cares about this craphole.

Amus texted me floor 8 room 101. I promptly took the elevator sweeping past the minimal security the building had. The halls were grey and poorly lit by cheap luminescents. The kind that made your skin yellow, your eyes hurt, and emitted that annoying low buzzing noise. The room was marked with fading paint that just barely made the 101 on the door visible. Amus assured me ahead of time that he would be here but I would be on guard in case they decided to shaft him at the last second. I had a gun tucked away at my side that I managed to get from one of Amus' and I's hiding spots in the park.

Opening the door I was relieved to find Amus sitting at the head of a wooden table in a minimally decorated room with no windows. Just a table and chairs that matched the grey and luminescent theme from the hallway.

Amus smiled at me, "Welcome back to the good ole US of A, babe."

The men at his side remained tense dressed in black with blank expressions. They were here to make sure Amus told me the necessary information and report back my decision. The powers that be knew of our close relationship and I was under no false impressions that Amus being chosen to do this was a coincidence. They needed a friendly face to convince me of something.

"Who are your friends?", I asked bluntly avoiding the pleasantries he offered. I knew this situation for what it was immediately.

"Just some slackies the CIA sent by," he says rolling his eyes. "After everything that went down these past few years they're a little paranoid about what you'll do." So that's what this was about. They needed to know whether I was willing to be an asset or a liability.

Liabilities get handled.

"What do they what?"

" That's our Frost, right to the point," he says punching the suit next to him in the arm.

"Listen babe, ever since you dismantled Zetes and the Institute you've been on the government's watch list. I mean you were beforehand, you know, because of Zetes and everything. But bringing down a whole organization makes you a person of interest. That in addition to the file you had to submitted which detailed your official psychological profiles of some of the world's more prominent drug lords, underground traffickers, rogue agents, and crime lords you've taken down made them interested." I stared at him blankly. "Here's the thing, they want you to join some sort of government organization. NSA, CIA, FBI, doesn't matter. You've got the skill, but more importantly it seems they're interested in tying you down."

"Tying me down?" I asked slowly. I didn't like this.

"Yeah. In their mind, employing you would give them peace of mind that you won't try anything funny. Before you had no allegiances, nothing that made your values concrete. You've been lucky that the work you've done has been to the benefit of the US and not to their enemies. This wouldn't be much of a conversation if you had", he said levelling his eyes at me. I would dead. They wouldn't have even let me touch US soil if they thought I had any treasonous leaning. He continued, "Look, this isn't ideal but it gives you something to keep the suits from getting suspicious whenever you leave the house….it'll keep things from getting back to your father or effecting his work."

My head snapped from it's position toward the window to him and the suits. He knew how I felt about anyone even knowing about my dad. I was rejoining society but I was still protective of him. As far as anyone knew, Frost didn't have any family nor connections. Even Zetes didn't know I had family I still cared about. He would've used it to his advantage.

"Please just pick something, kid. I don't want these losers to have report that you don't wanna cooperate. I know you just wanna live off the grid as a civilian but if they can't employee you, they'll categorize you as a threat and you'll be on FBIs most wanted before your hand touches the doorknob."

I just sat there lost in thought. Amus knew I needed a moment so he let me be. After a long pause I couldn't keep the venom out of my voice as I thought out loud,"There really is no end to this is there? I just wanna be free of all this and they're forcing me back in. After everything they did. They've got a lot of nerve giving me ultimatum given all I know."

The men at his side tensed at my words confirming my suspicions. They wanted me close because of that. I knew too much to be set free. They knew what they had done and this was their way of making amends yet using me again all the same.

He spoke again, "Frost, if you don't agree they'll go after the institute kids. They'll send them to prison. They just got home they don't deserve that. This isn't them talking, it's me. I know how this goes. Your best bet is taking one of the offers. You'll live a normal life and work lenient hours because you're still a minor. Your caseload would be light until you hit 18 or 21, depending on your supervisor. You can be with your father, rebuild your life. I even talked them into letting you and the others keep the money you settled with. But these offers are good. Benefits, security, and no forced missions. You've actually got choices, kid."

He had me once I realized the others would be jeopardized. Our futures depended on the decision I made today. They would either recruit me or sack the whole group. My friends didn't deserve that. I promised to keep them safe back then, and that stood even now. Letting out a long sigh, I knew my decision. It wasn't what I wanted per say but in a few short years I would need a job anyway. Why not start with what I knew best?

"Alright. What have you got?"

Amus let out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank God," he whispered almost too low for me to hear. "I can get you on anywhere in any department. You got any preferences?" He asked as he begun sifting through the paperwork in front of him looking at the options.

"Not really. Just don't wanna be doing punk work or someone's errand chick. I'm over being a slave to the system."

"Noted. What about team stuff? You wanna work abroad again? I could get you a nice embassy position in Europe, Latin America.." He trailed off.

"No. Weed out anything that would keep me from being based in DC. I wanna come home at the end of the day, but since it's federal work I can't avoid traveling. Just keep it in this country."

" Okay, Okay", he amended as he filtered them out based on my stipulations. "What about the FBI? You'd make one hell of an agent."

"What department?" I asked only half paying attention. Maybe I could get something interesting. If it was too cushy or paper pushy I knew I would slack.

"Sex crimes?" He asked hesitantly. I glared. "Okay Okay, thought I'd give it a shot. No sex trafficking. Well what about the BAU? You would fit right in. Especially with these profiles you've already written. You're practically self taught but that shouldn't be an issues since the founders were too adn the field is still new. You've got the experience. It's a team, they travel a lot but you'd get to stay home since they're based in Quantico. You know this might be the best one, kid. Says here they just lost one agent so they'll need a replacement soon."

As much as I hated what spy work had done to my life, I couldn't deny I was good. Profiling was my strength hence why I managed to stay on top of the game. It wouldn't be so bad doing it for a living.

Taking my silence for hesitance Amus added, "They fly private too." Wiggling his eyebrows, I couldn't help but laugh. Amus was a sucker for the finer things in life.

"Alright I'll do it."

Satisfied that he had gotten me to agree, he passed me the file and had me sign some things. The government would create a resume for me and submit my profiles as a portfolio to the Supervisory Special Agent. Amus was convinced I was a shoe in and with the government backing me, there's no way they deny me the one department I had willingly agreed to. Amus insisted, they'd force his hand if they had to. I argued that my age would be a deterrent, still hoping to still get out of this but Amus assured that they would be given minimal information and allow me the luxury of disclosing anything more personal than my own name and qualifications. "Nobody has to know anything you don't want them to.

"Speaking of names, I need one. And documents, and a new passport. I ditched mine after I left customs."

"Way ahead of you, kid."

He pushed forward a file that had a birth certificate, social security number, an ID card and some other important documents for proof of identity. Apparently my surname would remain Frost. They had granted me my previous first name as a middle name in order to explain why people I may know previous to the accident would call me that. Only person that would would be my dad and maybe Maddie if she was still around. I missed her.

First name: Mason. Arching an eyebrow I looked at him and asked,"Mason? Really."

"It's the best I could up with. You know I'm not that creative. Besides it androgynous, its kinda cool," he defended.

I snorted. Whatever. It didn't matter what anyone called me. Just that I remembered to respond. This would be the only identity I needed to remember long term anyway.

"Yeah alright cool. Can I leave now?," I asked starting to stand up and grab my bag.

"One more thing." I sat back down heavily. I wanted to leave.

"You'll probably start sometime in the fall so be ready then. Enjoy the next couple months off. The workload for this team in intensive so make good use of it."

"Okay."

"And another thing!"

Frustrated I asked, "What Amus? Just spit it out."

He studied me for a second hesitating like he was about to tell me something he hadn't wanted to.

"It's about your father." My heart dropped into my stomach.

"What happened?," I asked lowly. This couldn't be happening. I just got back something couldn't have already happened to him.

"He was involved in a an explosion. He survived, he's fine", he added quickly seeing my expression knowing I was about to lose it.

"It's just that, Kelly he lost his memory temporarily. The last thing he remembered was being told you and your mother and died. Now even though he's since recovered, the emotional toll is still there like it happened yesterday. He put in his retirement and left NCIS. He isn't home and his co-workers don't know where to find him. But I, of course, do" he smiled. I was too shocked to answer so I just stared blankly. "Why didn't you start witht that?", I asked coldly. This was certainly more important than making sure I got locked into some agency.

"Because you would have bolted the second I did. You wouldn't have stuck around long enough for to tell you everything and the suits would snitched. Now, hush. He went to see Mike Franks in Mexico. He's been staying there trying to gain his footing, I suppose. I have the address of the old beach shack they're at. I don't know what your next move is or how you're break any of this to your old man but you deserved to know. You asked me to keep an eye on him and I feel like I failed you by not seeing this happen. Even he did. He warned his superiors and they ignored him and then the blast happened. I'm sorry, K.", he finished guiltily.

I sat back heavily. It felt like the air had been taken out of me. I had come so close to losing him and I didn't even know. This was worse than when the Kate thing happened. This time, I hadn't seen it coming at all. Hadn't seen any of the warnings because my attention was solely focused on bringing Zetes down. I should have been more watchful. I should have prevented this. I had saved my father before, but I had not this time. I let him down. Again.

"It not your fault, Amus", I whispered absently. "We can't stop everything. We're only human ." My own hypocrisy wasn't lost on me. I could forgive Amus, he was stretched thin as it was. He was good, the best. But stuff happens. I couldn't forgive myself though. My father was my responsibility and I had failed him. He was doing his best to recover from these past decade and this blast set him back so far emotionally I wasn't sure he'd recover. How was I supposed to help him as his daughter without damaging him further?

"His superiors. SecNav right? He still work out of the New York office?" , I asked innocently.

Amus wasn't fooled. He smirked at me, "No, you're not gonna kill him." I started to protest but he stopped me. "Kelly, you're in the clear. You have a new life, opportunities, and a second chance to be with your dad. I'm not gonna let you get sacked because of some bureaucratic pencil pushers."

I hated when he was right and he knew it too. Didn't mean I had to say it out loud.

"Now take this. You're gonna need some proof for him and Mike when you get there. I got your DNA tested and even had the guys upstairs submit the full reports citing the issues with crime scene from you and your mother's accident. They point out the holes and make statements testifying to its illegitimacy. Everything you need to prove your case is here. It won't be easy proving this to your dad so you'll need everything you can manage. I've got everything here. His address, contact number for the Cantina where his takes calls at, and points of contact in Mexico should you need any help are all here. I even arranged a motorcycle for you to pick up at the airport. If you need anything else, let me know."

I smiled despite wanting to cry. Amus was an irreplaceable friend.

"Amus-" I started but he cut me off.

"I know. Without words, I know." He smiled at me in the way only old friends could. "Anything to make your mean ass smile every now and then.

"Shutup," I said not really meaning it. I loved him even if I didn't say so.

"And don't worry about the sessions and debriefing crap. I took care of it. Got them all from Ochoa. Knew you wouldn't be able to focus after this. "He passed me the papers and got up to leave whistling to the suits like dog to head out the door. Pulling me to stand up and kissing me on my cheek he whispered in ear, "Go find your dad, kid."


	3. Ochoa

"If you have good friends, no matter how much life is sucking , they can make you laugh."

― P.C. Cast

Heat.

Unrelenting

Sweltering

Cutting

Blinding

Dear, God this summer was gonna be something else. If I thought the Berlin airport had been hot, I would have to reevaluate my idea of the concept as a whole. Mexico was in a league all its own. Looking around I wondered what the heck I had been thinking coming here in the first place. I knew why, of course. I knew for what, or rather who exactly, but in my haste to leave DC, head to the safe house, and then gather clothes for my stay I never really considered exactly how I would do this. The whole trip here was a blur. I had no idea how I had ended up outside the airport in Mexico.

I didn't exactly know what to expect once I saw him again. My father had changed over the years and wasn't the man I knew at 8 years old. His blue eyes that used to sparkle mischievously with had dimmed only showing itself periodically. The boyish smirk he would wear whenever he teased her mom by saying something my 8 year old self never quite understood, but laughed at anyway, wasn't there. I mean he still had it, it just wasn't as the forefront of his personality. He had turned gruff, aloof, and serious. Not unlike myself, these days. I had the opportunity to watch him through the eyes of others and occasionally spying on him from a distance. For him, everyday was a fight to get through. Every moment he didn't spend working, he spiraled into what I knew he would never admit as depression. It wasn't obvious though. He remained an enigma to even his closest friends. Building walls so high that even the sun wouldn't shine through the cracks.

The scenery that passed me by leading to the Mexican village, flew in a stream of senseless colors.

I had changed too. I knew it all too well that memories of people far exceeded the reality. When faced with the reality of actual complex and broken individuals, we often balk at how hard it truly is to love them. We realize that the idealized version is what made our hearts ache, not them. What if my father wouldn't love me as I was anymore? What if 8 year old Kelly, and who she was supposed to be, was what he wanted to see after all these years? I was jaded, cold, and ruthless. Or so I've been told. My father changed, but I still loved him more than anything else in the world. He could be the gruffiest, meanest grump in the world and I'd still love him to pieces because he was my dad and my very best friend when I was kid.

But I couldn't envision the same for me. The words of my teammates rang in my ears, "You're the coldest person I know." That's where the name came from. My icy blue eyes and personality had earned me a nickname I had never bothered to shake. The small cut in my eyebrow only served to make me look fiercer. Back then it didn't matter what people thought of me. At the time, the sentiment had earned them a humorless smirk and a shrug of indifference. But now, it cut like ice. I wasn't emotionless. Not at all. I felt everything. Life had gutted me like a fish and left me empty. Now I was just numb. Tragedy and death didn't shake me the way it should. I could bottle it up and save it for later. That was my job. That tends to happen when your boss makes it a habit to kill people in front of you daring you to flinch. It happens when you've spent the better part of a decade with silver bracelets attached to your arm that would kill you on command should your allegiance or nerves sway.

I took a deep breath and pulled myself out of the darkness from within that had crawled out and dimmed my vision. The bus lurched to a stop in the middle of small town. Being one of the only passengers, the driver looked at me expectantly and somewhat curiously. My stony expression, that had no doubt clouded my features, melted as I plastered smile across my face and stood. I quickly stepped off the bus with a quick, but sincere, thank you. Looking around I took in the town around me. The small village had dirt roads and buildings in vary shades of orange and yellow with colorful doors lining the streets. People strolled along the street in the slow, beach town.

I had been to every continent around the worked and had seen countless cities and countries. But for the first time, I was actually seeing the world around me. I could really see just how blue the sky was and the richness of the orange dust that swirled and settled around me upon the bus' departure. Had the world always been this beautiful, this captivating?

Looking around I spotted a small church nestled between two building. The catholic church had curving Spanish tiling that offset its pristine white structure. I felt drawn to it. In recent years, I had felt the need for some sort reprieve from the insulated world of the institute. It could eat you alive and suffocate you with regret and fear. One night after a particularly intense mission that was doomed from the start, I stumbled into an old English church in a small countryside town. I just needed some time to rest and be alone with my thoughts and churches often left their doors open at night. I spent all night in there just calming myself and enjoying a pleasant chat with the one of the bishops.

I had never been all that religious, fleeing from any sort of condemnation or light offered to me by organized religion. I had seen too much and lived too darkly to feel worth saving, but in that small quaint town I started to feel like there something more. Something much more sovereign than Zetes who, at the time, was the center of my universe. It was then that the cracks had begun to form allowing small streams of light to pour into my world. I had never been shown such understanding and sincerity. The plump bishop with a rosy cheeked smile seemed to see right through me. He got me to talk, open up, and be as vulnerable as I could really allow. With one simple question he broke down my walls by imploring quietly, "Are you okay?" Not a soul had asked me that in years. I wasn't okay. Hadn't been in years. I suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable and exposed under the weight of his questioning, yet gentle brown eyes. But instead of retreating and rebuffing him harshly the way I would anyone else, I fell to pieces in small church in front of stranger. Unbeknownst to anyone, and even myself, that was the beginning of the end of the Institute and everything I had built.

I walked slowly past the small place of worship noting its location in case I needed it in the coming days. My dad was here in this town according to Amus. But I couldn't even chance seeing him until I figured out exactly what I was going to do. I turned around a few times until I found the local restaurant that Amus had said the motorcycle would be parked behind. Going around back I found the light blue bike he was referring to that was probably more of scooter than motorcycle. There was note tied to the handle with my name on it in his famous sloppy scrawl. He probably figured it was better to be a bit more inconspicuous in the sleepy town than having some gringa roar about on a motorcycle.

I quickly boarded the lightweight scooter and veered towards the outskirts of town where a small yellow house would be waiting for me. Amus had thought of everything and had a running tab set up with the owner that I could pay whenever I finally left. Pulling up to the small house I parked my bike and walked across the cobblestone pathway up to the front porch. The key was in between a bed of flowers just under the soil. I opened the door and took in the whitewashed space. The little home was well looked after and obviously meant for visitors.

The floorboards creaked under my weight and but thankfully didn't give. I shrugged my backpack off my shoulders thankful to relieve myself of the weight after such a long journey and left it by the door. I would unpack later. I simply didn't have the energy to do so now. As much as I wanted to collapse on the sofa and sleep off the trip, I needed to meet up with Ochoa at the local cantina. I promised him I would meet for an early dinner as soon as I got settled at the cottage. I pulled my little phone from my front denim shorts pocket absently reminding myself that I would need an actual phone that wasn't almost as old as I as was.

I dialed Ochoa and waited for him to pick up while puttering about the kitchen looking through the cabinets that had been stocked.

"Hola?"

"Hola 'choa"

"Whoop whoop! You here, babe ?"

"Yeah, got here not too long ago. Ready for dinner?"

"Came from two towns over just for you, mi amor. Of course I am. Meet me in 15?"

"That'll work."

I quickly hung up and went to go grab my bag and place it in the bedroom across the hall. The room was nice and spacious with a window that dominated the far wall. The bedding was a clean light blue with matching pillows. Apart from the sitting chair diagonal to the bed and the tan rug in front of the bed, the room was simple yet cozy. I rushed outside and headed into town to meet Ochoa.

Ochoa was one of the institute kids that had been freed upon the death of Zetes. There were several of us in total, but I would only call a handful of them friends. We were all sort of bound by our shared situation and I had trusted them with my life countless times over the years. However, after the Institute crumbled, we all had an unspoken agreement that seeing each other ever again in this life would be something we could live without. Ochoa was one of the exceptions. At 6'5 and 260 lbs he towered over most. But his outer appearance betrayed the man that lived underneath that was incredibly loving, resilient, and deeply proud of his Oaxaca indigenous roots.

Being in charge of everyone else made me isolate myself when the pressure to live up to Zete's expectations became just too much. Sometimes I would sit in the rain just to let the cool water wash over me like it could heal me somehow. 'Choa would come outside sometimes and join me, when he sensed I wouldn't mind the company, and bring me one of his famous smoothies or a snack. Usually mangoes con chile. They were his favorite and they became our bonding food. He could peel my soul off the ground when it felt like it had broken to pieces and make me laugh just when I thought I would cry. Despite everything we went through under Zetes, Ochoa remained his fun-loving, cheery self. He really was the sun incarnate.

I parked my bike behind the Cantina and rounded back towards the front to find my friend. He was hard to miss once I stepped inside. He stood heads above everyone else and was clearly flirting with one of the waitresses.

"...for me? Just this once. It'll be our secret," he drawled charmingly to her in Spanish obviously trying to get some kind of special treatment. She looked like she was trying to play hard to get by not giving in, but it was a losing battle from the looks of the smile that threatened to crack across her face. I rolled my eyes and walked over not at all sorry to interrupt his playful begging.

"Choa, leave the poor woman alone. She doesn't wanna be harrassed by you and your nonsense all day," I laughed while pulling my seat out and sitting down.

"Escarcha in the flesh! What has it been weeks, months, years since I've seen this beautiful face?"

"Days. About 4...tops," I said sarcastically.

"See? Eons ago! Seems like just last month you were busting Colombian drug lord and threatening to choke him death with his own dental floss," he sighed.

"That was, indeed, last month."

"Tsk, tsk. Time sure does fly when you're having fun with friends", he smiled indulgently.

I scoffed, "Yeah I guess it does."

"You're looking better. That snarl on face is gone, your hair doesn't look so dry. Guess you found whoever's been pissin in your cheerios and got ya self a new bowl."

"I've been here for 30 seconds and you're already taking shots at me."

"Es por cariño," he says grabbing my face making kissy noises.

Snatching my face and slapping his hand I growled, "Don't make me come across this table on you."

"It wouldn't be the first time,'' he shrugs unbothered.

"Yeah, and obviously it won't be the last," I shot back.

He just laughed and shook head. Ochoa was like the annoying big brother I never asked for. Or wanted.

"What did you wanna meet for other than to criticise my hair regime?"

Putting down the umbrella in his drink that he had been picking his teeth with his eyes lit up."So, girl,'' he say theatrically. I sigh knowing this is about to be one of his dramatic retellings.

"I was in town, minding my business, when I overhear two ladies outside the bar talking about this sexy old _gringo_ that just got here a few weeks ago. Now I'm not one to gossip so you aint hear this from me." Ochoa is gossips like an old woman, but I don't interrupt. "This isn't unusual seeing as this town isn't exactly a tourist destination and outsiders tend to stick out. Now you know I have eavesdropping issues so I'm playing with some old man's banana pretending not to listen."

At the look on my face, he raises his hand like he's about to backhand me and spits through his, "Not like that, you heathen. There are fruit carts around. _Anyway_ , they say he's living with Franks but takes all his calls at _this_ cantina. Now they're all sad because apparently he almost never comes into town. Whenever he or Franks need something, they have Maria the manager bring it to the house. Phone calls, groceries, anything. She's on and off with this Senor Franks so she doesn't mind. However, Franks does come into town during happy hour everyday. That's your window."

At first I just blinked at him marveling how he could say all of this without taking a breath in between. "So Franks comes out but never my dad? Great. At least with my father I had something to say to him…..kind of. I don't even know Franks. I only know him through his file." I paused. "How receptive do you think he'd be if I approached him first with questions about an old case? I mean I have documents to prove the case raised some issues that would have raised red flags."

"Hmmm, confronting a retired federal agent claiming they botched a case? Not a good start."

"Yeah but the issues with the case wasn't the investigative side of it. He was spot on with who did it and how. It was those involved in forensics and autopsy that covered up my survival. Franks didn't need to know how we died, it was obviously the crash. He was looking for a killer. He had no reason to question what Anderson told him about us."

"Is Anderson the forensics guy or the medical examiner?"

"He was the ME's assistant at the time but he helped out with forensics because they were so short staffed that autopsy and forensics shared. They practically worked in the same room. He smuggled me out to Zetes and covered for it."

"How did he manage to cover for you? Someone had to see the body sometime? And if you're here, who did they bury ten years ago?"

"Some poor soul that matched my general description. I took quite the beating in that crash so they borrowed some other girl, probably a trafficking victim, and smashed her up to give her similar injuries and my old dance clothes. My grandmother only identified my mother's body. She couldn't stomach mine, so they used botched forensics to confirm it and no one knew to question it. Besides, the NCIS agent that was shot by the sniper was the focus of the investigation. There was no reason to hold us in the freezer any longer. We both looked so beat up they went ahead with a closed casket funeral."

He sat back and looked off in the distance digesting everything I told him.

"He's gonna want some hard evidence. You can't go in there blindfolded trying to tell him the color of the room."

"Don't I know it. I have the documents and even a DNA test but even with all that on hand…"

"It's gonna be a hard sell," he finished knowingly. "You're in quite the pickle, pumpkin."

This _was_ quite the pickle. How does someone claim to not be dead anymore and what is exactly is the lead up for something like that? They don't exactly make a "How to come back from the Dead" book for dummies. That in addition to the spy element wasn't going to strengthen my argument either. I would sound like a lunatic and even if I did see my father first I would probably do more damage than good. He could lash out at me and drive me away. I don't think I was ready for that. I'd fought a lot of battles over the years but none of them had been emotional. This wasn't some mission, it was my life.

Feeling a bit defeated I said, "What am I even doing this for, Cho? All this trouble I'm gonna go through convincing Franks and then my dad, both of whom may not even believe me, for what? This could just be a waste of time."

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at me, "What do you mean?"

"I mean this doesn't matter. He'll be fine and so will I. We both have been so far," I shrugged not really convincing myself.

"Hey," he says roughly picking up one of the chips from the appetizer bowl between us and throwing at my forehead. "Don't you shut down on me. Since when do _you_ give up when things look hard? How many times have you kicked me in the butt for backing down even when our backs were to the wall and barrels at our chest? I would have embraced this quitter attitude back in Israel a year ago, but now it just pisses me off."

"Israel wasn't that bad, don't be dramatic," I said dismissively.

"Piss _off,_ I took 5 rounds to the chest and Sardinha lost the tip of his ear."

"Okay but did you die? Alright then," I shot back.

"Don't change the subject. Frost, I know you aren't always aware of this but you're only sixteen. You're the most capable person I know, but that doesn't exempt you from basic human needs. No matter how many people think you're infallible, I know you're not. You're just kid. You don't need to shoulder the weight of the world all the time. And I can see in your eyes, you think your father will turn you away once he knows the real you. You think he can see the blood on your hands, and maybe he can, kid. I won't lie, it's in your eyes. But I do know that when I got home after being gone for 7 years, my mama and my abuelos didn't care how many throats I had slit and or how many people I had shot long range, a number which by the way I'm proud because it's spectacular," he said stopping to brag. Ochoa was really something else. "They cared that I was back. It's not like we were raping and pillaging, carino. Your father is in a foreign country reeling from the traumatic memories of losing you and your mother. Will he be shocked? Heck yeah. I'd think your ass was a zombie or something, especially with those under eye bags. I have some eye cream for that by the way. Quit looking for excuses, and charge the mountain."

I was shocked. 'Choa wasn't usually this serious. I mean he was usually the one to encourage the team before an assignment, but after years of being the one to put others in their place I wasn't used to having it done to me by a subordinate. But 'Choa wasn't a subordinate anymore, I reminded myself. I couldn't be offended when he gave me the kick in the butt I needed.

"Wow 'Cho that was really something."

"Forget you, I got depth," he defended jokingly throwing another chip in my hair.

"Careful you're gonna make my newly lustrous hair dry again," I said flicking away the piece onto the ground.

He snorted, "God forbid that dry ass Lara Croft braid makes a comeback."

"You want me to buy you dinner or not?"

"Duh. I'm not about to dent this reparation check just yet."

Changing the subject to more pleasant topics, we talked about our "after lives" and settling back into civilian life. Mostly 'Choa's since he had done more than I had since being back. He came from a large family of about 10 siblings and countless cousins. He was going back to a quieter life, stating "the big bad world was fun but I missed swimming in lake, catching fish, and helping my mom with chores." He planned on using the money he had to help his community and invest in some much needed development and conservation projects since tourism and the commercial real estate industry had begun encroaching upon the smaller villages. He didn't want his village to fall victim to greedy foreign investors.

The downfall of the institute had been a hard fought battle with the losses of great people that would forever haunt me. While I never knew if I had made the right decision, hearing 'Choa talk about his new life and all he had done to help the people and the country he loved would making sleeping at night easier. It was after conversation like these that I could feel myself begin to slowly make peace. It was all still too fresh to heal, but it was certainly a step in the right direction.

I didn't tell 'Cho about my deal with the FBI and becoming a federal agent in the fall. I left that out. He would worry and ask questions and all I wanted him to do was enjoy the new life he had carved out for himself. He didn't need to worry about me. No matter what, I would make it. I always had.

After dinner he insisted on following me home even though it was 15 minutes in the other direction. I said no, but he all but threw me over his shoulder and carried my bike home. Once we arrived he told me to call if I needed anything, that he was only phone call away. I agreed knowing he'd come pounding at my door if I didn't check in every now and then. He'd want to know the progress I was making and if I needed backup. I promised knowing I would try to keep the calls to a minimum and probably wouldn't bother him unless I absolutely had to. I was a big girl and the fact that I was dealing with "daddy issues" was embarrassing enough.

After 'Cho left I washed off the day and changed into a fresh, big t-shirt for bed. Tomorrow I would need to find a way to make that Cantina a routine in my daily life and find a way and reason to talk to Franks. He might be retired but you never really that instinct that made you suspicious of strangers in a small village. Especially when all the white people in the area could be counted on one hand. I had to be careful and I really only had one shot at this. One wrong move and he would either label me crazy or shoot me. Or both. But I'd rather be shot at by Franks than face my father too early and mess it all up. My thoughts plagued me until I couldn't take them any longer and I drifted to sleep, praying to the God I was still afraid to approach for the best outcome.

 **Author's Note:**

I have moved this story to the non-crossover section simply because it may be awhile before the Criminal Minds characters come into play. If that changes I'll modify back. Let me know if this causes any issues for you all. Also I really, really appreciate the handful of reviews I've received. They've honestly meant the world to me and are the fuel behind these quick updates. Don't be afraid to ask me anything or request something you want to see in the story as we go along.

P.S. I've seen some of the mistakes in the previous chapter and stress ate like 2 giant muffins because of it lol. I was more careful with this one because it was shorter than the last one.

 **Es por carino** : Something said with affection. He's basically saying, "It's because I love you" or "Its with love." Something people sometimes say when they say something harsh or criticize you constructively.

 **Escarcha** : Frost. Someone let me know if there's a better word for this.

 **Gringo:** foreigner, usually refers to people from the united states and/or most usually white people.


	4. Project Jacuzzi

The sun poured in from the windows penetrating the sheer curtain that covered the windows. The sounds of the waves crashing against the ocean mixed with the sound of the gentle breeze was enough to lull me back to sleep. I had been sleeping well these past few days for which I was thankful. I needed to get up now though, the mail would be arriving sometime today and as soon as that got here I was heading to the Catina for happy hour. Taking Ochoa's advice I went ahead and made the necessary arrangements. I was tired of waiting around and second guessing myself. I never had before and this was the worst time to start.

Yesterday, I phoned Amus and asked for an FBI identification card. He was overnighting by jet so I could have it this morning. I was being forced in anyway so I may as well milk it for my own benefit. I would take the file Amus gave me with all the necessary evidence and confront Mike Franks about what had happened. I knew the finer details myself but I was curious about what went unwritten and unspoken between third parties.

I had nixed a thousand ways of getting to that house. I had thought of getting a job at the Cantina, convincing Maria to help me, and impersonating someone yet none of it felt that it would get me anywhere. It was either messy or involved more people than necessary. Sometimes the most straightforward plan is the best one.

I lazily roamed the kitchen pulling together breakfast as I continued to plan out every aspect of this. I didn't need to wear an all black suit and aviators to convince Franks that I was FBI, thankfully. Just the thought of wearing all that in this heat made me chafe.

Just as I was plating the omelet, there was an knock at the door. When I opened the door I found young guy around my age at the door giving me a beaming smile that radiated against his tanned skin. "Hola!," he greeted cheerily and held out the package for me. I reached into my wallet and handed him a few dollars, thankful he had gotten it to me so quickly. This was a secluded village and I was worried the delivery would be delayed. He beamed at me surprised and said his thanks. I watched him sprint away and pedal off to his other deliveries. Amus never failed to come through.

I closed the door and took the package with me to the living room forgetting all about the omelet I had actually been looking forward to eating. I tore it open and there lay exactly what I needed. Amus had probably sprung and just had a real one done. The identification certainly looked genuine. While I could McGyver my way through most things, crafting a fake federal ID card was gonna be tough in such a small town. The picture of me was from a year or so ago when I was posing as lab tech at a research facility in Austria. I had about a pound of contour on trying to pass as a graduate student. It was probably the only decent picture of me that was appropriate for this purpose.

Without wasting anymore time I jumped in the shower and changed into some casual clothes. I put on a knee length flowy chiffon dress that had the sides cut out in sideways triangles. I needed something summery to look like I was on vacation, but also flowy enough to cover the "service weapon" I had strapped to my thigh. Looking at my hair in the mirror I suddenly wished I had actually cut it when I planned to. Too late now. I simply left it in long waves, pulled on some sandals, and grabbed my leather slouchy bag.

Happy hour was just starting and, according to 'Choa, Franks never missed a day there. I doubled checked that I had all my necessary items and headed off.

Arriving at the Cantina I expected more people. They were obviously occupied with customers but, like everything else in this town, it wasn't a particularly large affair and the atmosphere was a controlled enjoyment that contrasted with the rowdiness of happy hour in the States. Walking in my eyes scanned the crowd, I immediately recognized Franks from my years of spying on my dad. He was a little older now, but hadn't changed much from his NCIS days. Just looked more relaxed with smirk on his face as he took long draws from his cigarette and swishes from his beer bottle.

It was now or never. I had been undercover most of my career, but now I would actually have to get used to being this person. I squared my shoulders and put an easy smile my face and lightened my stride to offset him detecting the weapon on my thigh. I had his attention once I entered his line of vision. Thankfully, he was nestled at the back corner so we could talk privately, but that also meant I caught everyone else's attention during my walk towards the corner of the bar.

"I'm Mason." I introduced myself in my new name sitting down.

He arched his and laughed. "Alright. I like a woman with confidence. You're a bit young to be hanging out in a bar like this."

"Not in this country."

"You on spring break?"

"Not quite. But I have taken a break of sorts to come looking for you."

"Me? And just who do you think I am?"

"Mike Franks, retired team leader for NCIS."

He leaned in close, all traces of jest disappeared from his face and put his cigarette out.

"Only a handful of people would know to come looking for me here. Who are you?"

I kept the smile on my face for the sake of everyone in the restaurant as to not draw suspicion. "You should tighten your circle. I'm here to gain some clarification on old case of yours from about 10 years ago."

"Now those are big questions ya got there, little lady. What gives you the right to ask them?"

"Mason Frost, I'm with the FBI."

"The FBI you say?" he said a bit incredulously looking me up and down. I slide my ID across the table for him to inspect. Placing his cigarette in his mouth and examining it in the light for a moment, he shook his head. "They get younger every year..."

"You're telling me," I said unable to keep some of the bitterness out of my voice.

"So what, did one my fugitive reenter the country or spring out jail or something? I'm retired now. Too old to be chasing some reprobate around. Everything I knew about anything is archived at NCIS, some are even at FBI headquarters." He said leaning away from me and gesturing to the waitress for another beer ready to dismiss me.

"I know all that. I'm talking about a murder case that had some holes in it. The killer was identified but there wasn't enough evidence to stick in the end. But the murders are not what I'm here for, I'm here because one of the victims never died. The perpetrator worked for NCIS."

His snapped back to look at me. I was accusing one of his team members now. I had his full attention now. "Never died? I saw all three bodies on the slab in autopsy. One of them was a fellow agent, a young woman, a little girl, the daughter of my-" He stopped realizing he was almost yelling now. He collected himself and started again,"Just who are trying to implicate here and who exactly are you claiming isn't dead? Cause they for darn sure were once the ME got done with 'em."

"And that autopsy room is where the crime took place-

He interrupted, "The ME at the time was dang near blind and senile. He died not too long after too. You can go throw the cuffs at a grave all ya want."

I calmly explained to him the events that took place the same way I had to 'Choa. I even added that the ME at the time, while old, probably hadn't died of natural causes. I once heard Zetes placating a panicked Anderson by saying he had "taken care" of the snooping Medical Examiner. The poor, old doctor had found a discrepancy and was ready to report it.

He turned a ghost white once I revealed that Kelly Gibbs had not died but had been kidnapped and forced into exploitation. I could see his mind immediately jumping to conclusions while his face turned murderous but green, I quickly assured him it wasnt that kind of exploitation. While she had been used for bait she wasn't harmed. At least now in that way, I thought darkly. He looked like he didn't want to believe it ,so I handed him the thick file that had been compiled by the CIA. It was a lot easier to allow Franks to read about Zetes and his Institution rather than recounting it himself. The thought made oddly emotionally knowing I would soon have to verbally explain everything to my father. He would have questions that a file couldn't answer. It left out details. He deserved to hear them from me anyway. Mike set aside his beer and squashed his cigarette to pick up the file. I sat there for about for an 20 minutes while he read through the dense reports. He stopped at a picture of me from a collection of photos used to advertise the children for sale at a "gentlemen's" banquet. My eyes were a bit glassy from the drugs I had been given. Recognizing me from the pictures he had no doubt seen in my father's possession, he stopped whispering to himself, "Oh god, Probie.."

He looked up me desperately asking, "Where is Kelly now? Please tell me she

isn't…"

"No. She's alive."

"Where? Her father….he...don't ask me to keep this from him. I wont," saying the last part forcefully.

"I'm not asking you to," I promised. "She'll want to see him too."

"When? She can come anytime. Hell, I'll pick her and bring her here."

"Right now. You're looking at her," I said around the lump in my throat. I needed to get it together.

He just looked at me perplexed. His sharp eyes pouring over my features. Looking back down, he almost tore the pages to get back to the photo he had seen of me in the file. He plucked it out of it clip and held it up comparing the similarities. Realization dawned on him as he looked into my eyes. The ones my father had given me.

"I have a DNA test to prove it. If the photo isn't enough…" I said unnecessarily. I knew he knew. I just didn't want him to think we working off a photo only.

He closed the folder slowly, shaking his head, "Don't need it. You're definitely his. Kelly I'm- If I had looked closer, taken the time to actually see your face I would have noticed something was off.."

"Don't apologize. Your job was finding a killer. I was unidentifiable anyway. Or at least the girl they used was. Internal crimes are hard to detect, no one expects a lab assistant to abuse evidence. There was no way you could have known. But I came to see you. because I need help."

"Anything. Name it."

"My father...I need to make sure he's okay. I want to tell him. I want to tell him everything but I don't want to shock him and confuse him right now. Especially not so soon after the accident. He's still having trouble gaining his footing in the present and accepting the past. I don't want to delay his recovery by throwing a curveball of sorts when he's healing….I know how he reacted the first time when we died.."

"You know about-?"

"Yeah I do. Which is why I don't want him knowing just yet. If he was healthy, it would be hard, but a different situation. I have a umm..delicate relationship with our government and an act of vengeance won't change anything now."

"Because you're FBI now."

I rolled my eyes, "Yes and no. It wasn't my choice really but it keeps them off my back for now."

He was confused at that but ignored it for now and asked, "So what can I do?"

"I just need a reason to be around. I'm not sure what he does all day. I wouldn't want to intrude upon you helping him or get in the way."

He barked a laugh for the first time, "Are you kidding me? Probie doesn't talk about his feelings. He barely talks as is. He just fixes that dang roof all day. Told him he should make me jacuzzi instead…"

"What if I build the jacuzzi for you? It would give me a reason to be there. Just say I'm a college student looking to earn some money over the summer or on a mission trip or something. He may not even ask."

"Ya ever build a hot tub a before kid ?," he laughed.

"No, but an old marine once taught me how to build a boat," I said smiling a bit remembering how often he I would bug him all day to teach me.

"Well let's get going. Ain't no use dallying around now. Let's roll, kid."

We both stood up and started heading out the door, "Thank you for this, Mr. Franks."

"No need. I like to tie to loose ends. Beside Probie deserves this."

It warmed me to know that despite my father's turbulent love life, he always had such a genuine group of friends that were just as loyal as he was.

Walking outside we loaded up into Franks' old truck just outside the Cantina headed for his house.

"How much extra wood do you have?," I asked remembering I had to actually make this believable.

"Too much. But if you need more there's plenty lying around and an old wood shop just outside of town."

"How much do you need for the roof ?"

"Not sure, that Probie's area. I mean it keeps the sun out so it seemed fine to me. Hurricane season aint that bad, a few leaks here and there but certainly not catastrophic enough for him to be working from sunup to sundown to beat it."

That didn't surprise me. My father had never relaxed a day in his life. Even when I was kid and he was home from deployment, he was always doing something. Tinkering with the plumbing, painting, handiwork for the neighbors, just anything. No one in our neighborhood ever spent on dime on home repairs. I once had to make a birdhouse for project in school, and of course I didn't say anything until the night before it was due. We sat down in the basement all night while my mom lectured me about procrastinating, and my dad made the whole thing for me never saying a word about my poor time skills. The only thing I did was paint it and even then I only finished one wall before falling asleep.

Mike jerked to a stop in front of what looked like an abandoned wooden shack that sat in front of the beach. It slanted slightly to the side and looked like the next big windstorm would blow it over. The door shuttered open slightly in the wind and stuttered shut repeatedly. Looking at the house I realized my father may not have nervous energy after all. He might just be trying to make sure the house didn't collapse in on him. I could vaguely see his form hammering away at the roof with his back to it. Only a man that had looked death in the face and lived would have enough nerve to sit atop this house of cards everyday.

I really tried not to let my face give away my reaction to Mike's shack. Truly, I did. Obviously I failed because Mike chuckled at my face.

"Sorry," I chuckled not really meaning it. I could hold back my words with ease, but 'Choa always did say my facial expression needed prayer…

"Come on, Princess" he said still laughing.

Suddenly the nerves started to settle in. I didn't feel ready for this. Mike was easy because I had an angle. I knew every reason I shouldn't do this, every scenario of where this could go wrong. But I wanted this more than I feared it. So I squared my shoulders and swallowed my fears. I could this.

Stepping out of the car, I walked around the side of the house to the porch with Mike. A small part of me noted that if I didn't find the courage to finish the dang sex tube Mike wanted, the rickety porch would probably collapse and put me out of my misery anyway.

"Alright all the wood is here," he said gesturing to the stack of jagged planks that would have to be sanded and shaped before they could even dream of being a jacuzzi.

"Hey Probie! Ya mind sharin' your toys? I finally conned someone into making the hot tub you said was stupid."

I looked up quickly to make eye contact with my dad for the first time in forever. I could see his eyes even from the height of the roof. He glanced at me and Mike, but I just kept staring, dazed.

"She lose a bet or something?" he muttered but we still heard him, even over the waves.

"Hey I don't gamble with kids!...anymore. Just that one time. Stop bringing up old crap."

My dad just turned his head away and shook it. This was obviously daily banter for them. I was still staring barely listening anyway. I missed him so much. I wanted to build this jacuzzi on the darn roof just so I could sit with him. Tears welled in my eyes and stung. My chest constricted, my throat tightened painfully, the heat suddenly seemed overwhelming and buzzed in my ears. I miss him. I miss him so much. I couldn't even tell him yet. Mike looked over at me and seemed to see the struggle in my eyes while I stared at my father whose back was to us again.

"Hey ," he whispered to me. I looked over and saw it there, the concern, the sympathy for us both. "You'll figure something out. I can always strap him to chair and read him the file if that's easier for y'all."

He wouldn't react well to that. At all. But I appreciated Mike. He wasn't the gentle type. His methods were rough and unorthodox, sometimes borderline cruel, but he cared. He would do anything for my dad, that much was clear even behind the bravado.

I smiled a bit, fixing my features, "No that wouldn't be good. Especially if he managed to get loose. I'll manage. You're already doing so much."

"Think nothing of it. I'll keep it in my back pocket. Wouldn't be the first time I've strapped to him chair to get something through that thick skull of his. Hope it won't be the last," he said obviously enjoying getting rise out of my dad.

I laughed and thanked him. He left me to it saying he would be inside if I needed him sauntering off to find another beer. I kinda felt bad for taking him away for Cantina hour. I'd have to get him a gift card there or something after all this.

I settled on a spot on the porch that gave me a good view of my father working. He wasn't even aware that I was here, just barely noticed me. But just being around him again gave me a peace these past years had stolen. A warmth that came round being with someone you loved wholeheartedly that couldn't be described. Being around 'Choa and Amus made me feel light and put me and good spirits. But being around my dad made me feel like the a kid again. I didn't feel so aged. I felt 16. Unlike everyone else, he would never ask me to be anything other than that.

The wood was splintered, broken, and a touch rotted. I need to find what I could use and toss what I couldn't. Wouldn't be a very good jacuzzi if the water leaked. Getting everything sorted was the easy part. I had an idea of what I wanted it to look like in my head and carved some measurements into the wood. It wasn't til I had to started sawing and shaping the structure that I realized I didn't know what the flip I was doing. I look between the pieces of wood wondering how I was gonna actually put this together. Watching my dad do this and helping out was way different than flying solo and actually having to think about it. I was starting to get frustrated and thought about going to the wood store and getting some advice when a shadow casted over me. I looked up expecting to see a cloud or, worse, Mike hovering to check to see how unconvincing this all looked. I had the beginnings of what looked like a wobbly satanic circle.

Instead looking up I was suddenly faced with the set of eyes I'd know anywhere standing closer than I was prepared for. I froze wide eyed unable to speak.

He arched a scrunched brow at me, sighed and said, "Need some help there?"


	5. Kelly Gibbs

He quirked his eyebrow and looked at me expectantly when I didn't answer.

"Um yeah that-that be cool," I barely managed to stutter out. He crouched down beside me and examined the wood I had managed to make a sloppy circle out of. He silently got to work at pulling the pieces apart, letting the nail clink on the ground. Obviously I wasn't off to a great start since he had to pull everything apart just to start all over again. He worked for the next few minutes only ever acknowledging me when he needed something. Like a new piece or a nail that had managed to roll away.

I just watched him the way I always had making something out nothing and cleaning up my mess. Even though he didn't have much, it already looked like something. His skilled hands ran expertly across the wood as he forced the heavy material to bed to his will.

"Can I help with anything", I asked feeling particularly useless.

He didn't say anything. It was like he hadn't heard me. I was about to just resigned myself to the helper role when he looked up and jerked his chin over to the pile of wood on the other side of the porch. I looked over and got up to go get it. This wood was better than even my non-rotted pile. I guess he didn't mind sharing after all. I grabbed an armful and carried it over to him and set it down. He handed me the other saw and I began copying his movement and cutting away at the pieces of the new pile.

Gibbs wasn't sure why he offered to help the young girl. He could've left her to her own devices and simply allowed Mike to realize that she probably wouldn't be able to build the kind of tub he was looking for. Or any tub at all it seemed by the looks of the crooked hexagon she had going. But then he might nag Gibbs into doing it and he wasn't about to do that and the roof as well.

She didn't look unaccustomed to hard labor if the muscles in her arms and legs were any indicator. She was wearing some kind of flowy dress, but sat like man with her tongue poked out when she concentrated. Her grip and movements weren't clumsy like a newbie but the execution was so odd he would have guessed despite having skill in working with her hands, carpentry either wasn't her thing or she was just out of her league. He had to give it to her though, the kid was determined. Not once had she asked him for help even after hours of failing. Hadn't even let Mike know she didn't know what she was doing when he came out to check on it. She seemed self assured and if he wasn't able to read past it, he would have believed it himself.

He was kind of curious about her. He didn't know why. Maybe it was because she was the first person he had seen in months that wasn't Mike or Maria. But there was something odd about her he couldn't place. Something his damaged mind wasn't putting the pieces together on. Looking at her face he felt like he was missing something vital about her. His gut churned, screamed at him to look closer. Who was she?

"Do I have something on my face?", she asked suddenly. He snapped out of his pondering and looked her in the eye. Her eyes made his head swirl, his memory trying to remind him that he knew the innocent wide baby blues looking at him. The memory flashed so quickly he couldn't see it clearly and it unsettled him.

He grunted a quick, "No." Looking back down and continuing to work he pushed away his thoughts. His memory had played tricks on him these past few months and his gut was reacting to his fragmented mind. Or at least that's what he told himself. It was making him tired trying to strain and place the teenager in front of him.

"You obviously don't know what you're doing so how'd you get stuck doing this?" He asked roughly. It wasn't his business, but he figured he might as well know why.

"Mr. Franks is an old friend of my father's. I'm supposed to be here learning a lesson", Frost said making something up off the top of her head.

"Got into some trouble?", Gibbs asked trying not to sound too interested. He didn't know why he wanted to know.

"Something like that. Haven't really been doing anything lately that would make him proud. Got myself mixed up with the wrong crowd while he was away. Now this is my summer vacation," I mumbled while sorting through the wood planks.

"Away?"

"Yeah he's, uh, in the Corps."

"A marine assigned you to a whole summer with Mike? Yeah, you'll learn your lesson", he said smiling wryly and taking a swig of his beer. Gibbs knew Franks would work the brakes off of this kid. Being his Probie had been anything but easy. He couldn't imagine the hell he stored away for the young degenerate.

"Franks hard to please? This Jacuzzi is already driving me crazy in all this heat. I don't think it will end here either."

Gibbs shook his head knowing there was more to come, "It won't. Anyone who'd trust Franks with their kid knows that. Shoulda stayed outta trouble"

Frost knew he'd remain silent if she let him. She liked talking to him. The sound of his voice directed at her was soothing. And while she enjoyed just being around him, not saying anything, she needed to keep him talking, or at least listening to get somewhere.

"So what you being punished by your dad too?"

"What?", he asked confused at the question.

"That why you building him a whole new roof?" she asked.

The smallest shadow of a smile ticked at the side of his mouth, "No, not quite." He said shaking his head looking down at the wood that he had begun to nail away at.

"Lose a bet?," she guessed again.

"Don't gamble", he said simply. "You?"

"I used to. With my dad for things like extended bedtime hours and extra cookies before bed", Frost said actually telling the truth.

"Strong-willed, huh? "

"Yeah. Everything was up for negotiation if I could find a loophole. I wasn't the combative type, so I had to learn to talk my way outta stuff."

"Why would you need to fight?", Gibbs wondered out loud while he gathered some screws. She didn't seem like the scrawny type and was too self-assured to get pushed around.

Frost shrugged, "I lived on an army base as a kid. Seemed like army brats were the tough type just like their parents. Didn't really fit in. I liked to paint, play the piano, and day dream. I was always the shortest too. If I had worn glasses I'd be toast."

"So you got picked on?" he asked with a touch of sympathy in his voice, but not looking up from his work.

"Only by this one guy. He was bigger than me and his dad was an officer so he felt like he had his father's authority," I rolled my eyes remembering the buttwipe that was Lester Monroe. He was a pudgy, greasy haired blonde haired kid that gave me hell in grade school.

"And you talked yourself outta his line of fire?"

"No, he wasn't much of a listener. He liked to pull my pigtails, steal my cookies, and make me do his homework."

"You tell your dad?"

"No. His father was my father's Commanding Officer and I didnt want my dad to have any trouble or, worse, kicked out the Marines just because he slugged a 10 year old with a bat. I heard my mom say his CO was a real SOB once."

"So you kept it yourself?"

"Yeah, thought I could handle it. That is until he started picking on my friend, Maddie. She was getting tortured by association, that didn't seem very fair, So I…..retaliated. Or at least I tried to", I said grimacing at the memory.

He arched his eyebrow expectantly.

I bit my lip. This was years ago and still embarrassed me to this day. I never told anyone this story. "While my father was deployed, I had this big plan that I was gonna get him back. I snuck into the boy's bathroom armed with a can of my father's wood glue. I smeared the toilet seat with it knowing he'd come to the bathroom after lunch. In my 7 year old head it made sense," I shrugged feeling slightly embarrassed at the holes in my plan.

He snorted, "The principal get stuck instead or somethin' ?"

"No, I wish. When I tried to leave the stall I slipped on my shoelaces and landed face first on the seat and got my forehead stuck," I grumbled. "The janitor eventually came before Lester could get there. He could barely help me since he couldn't see past the tears in his eyes. He almost fell over too. He had to get a tool to unscrew the seat from the toilet and then I had to wait in the office for my mom to come get me. Worst part is Lester saw me walking to the office with a toilet lid on my head. Hospital staff and the whole waiting room got quite the kick out of the story. This man with a broken leg slipped me some brass knuckles when my mom wasn't looking for when I went back to school and had to face the music," Frost giggled in spite of herself. She had gotten herself into more than her fair share of trouble as a kid behind her bright ideas.

Gibbs listened to the story with rapt attention looking up as she told him. It must have been quite the experience raising such an odd little girl. He couldn't help but laugh a bit at her. All this because she wanted to protect her dad and her friend.

"This Lester give ya hell when you got back?"

"Actually, no. He told me I had spunk and left me alone. 'Course everyone else called me toilet head for the rest of the year…"

Gibbs and Frost just continued to talk for the rest of the evening. In natural Gibbs fashion he didn't talk much himself, but preferred listening to her. She has years worth of silly stories to fill up the next few days while they worked on the Jacuzzi and the roof.

Some days, they just sat quietly and worked while he showed her how to fix patches in the roof. She proved to be a proficient helper, never needing much guidance once she has been shown once. He usually hated mindless chatter but her voice, soft as the wind, drowned out the ones inside his head. He wasn't sure how or when over the course of the next few weeks the little weirdo had begun to grow on him. It was like he had known her a lifetime.

She didn't do anything specific, she was just herself. She was insightful, funny, and a bit dramatic. Her tales of trouble had been the result of her own quirkiness. But her little oddities made her endearing. They had developed a banter over past couple weeks that had started with hesitant questions that moved on to gentle teasing of his facial hair. From anyone else that wasn't Abby, he would've been annoyed. He had certainly slapped DiNozzo for less.

"You always just gettin by on the skin of your teeth aren't you?" Gibbs asked after she had told him about sneaking off the Institute grounds one night with her friends to go to a local club. They had nearly been caught coming back when Sardinha had tripped the safety wires from the inside. Luckily they made it back just in time, when she remembered how to hack the system and make it seem like the "danger" had come from outside. They lured one of the dogs near the trip wire with beef jerky to make it seem like a dog training issue. Of course, she made all this sound like she had been in high security boarding school rather than a safe house in Germany.

"Yes. Well, no. Sometimes my skin teeth fail me and I have to face the music in much more theatrical ways," she grimaced remembering one particular food she'd never be able to eat again.

"Bout time that sneakiness caught up with ya" he said chuckling under his breath.

"It didn't," she said proudly. "Sometimes you just gotta ask yourself how far you're willing to go.

"Finally work your way up to a misdemeanor, did ya Mas?"

"Only if you consider the honor code a code of law," she shrugged. "I may have been a troublemaker but I wasn't about to bring home bad grades to my dad. He was a real hardass about grades. Strict parents make sneaky children."

"Just how far did you go for these grades," He asked wondering if he really wanted know.

"Nothing serious honestly. A due date snuck up on my group project partner and I once and we were far from ready to present. I'm talking we didn't even look at the rubric form. Only found out the subject of the project when the other kids started to present. So in a stroke a genius, we decided to play sick," she said walking over to the other side of the porch to connect the pieces of the jacuzzi that had begun to take form.

"So the coward's way out," he said flatly.

"Hey now, there was nothing cowardly about what we did. It took practice and discipline," she said defensively. "We didn't just hobble off the nurse's office. That's unrealistic, you know, for us both to be sick. I consider myself a woman of action, Gibbs. A shower rather than a teller, if you will. Once it was our turn to go I begun to play weak, but of course insisted on continuing for the sake of my beloved academia. Once that title page popped up on the screen I knew then and there I had to commit," she said dramatically staring off into the distance. "I'll have you know I stuffed my mouth with a concoction of bananas, mustard, and cafetaria oatmeal and hurled all over that room. I even passed out for good measure. I think I knocked down a computer too just for dramatic effect."

"Because the blowing chunks simply wasn't theatrical enough," he chuckled despite himself. Mason was eccentric, but no one could say she wasn't driven. If only she could focus that drive to something more productive.

There was something about just here talking to her dad about the silly events of her life that made Kelly someone she hadn't been in years. Frost was was stoic, cold, and ruthless. Kelly was silly and carefree. She almost didn't recognize who she had become these past few weeks. She could feel the effects of Mr. Zetes slipping away from her day by day. These stories were all the memories she had kept stored away in hopes to tell him about later. He was either away when they occurred or she had already "died." She secretly hoped that through these tales she could jog his memory and lessen the blow of when she actually gathered the courage to tell him. Perhaps by then he would have already have his own suspicions. She even told him things that he already knew about Kelly. Things that, she noticed on a few occasions, would make him pause. She could hear the gears moving in his head that he couldn't quite make spark. The connection that weren't allowing themselves to be made. He knew she liked strawberry shortcake dolls and playing the piano as a kid and made a point to mention those things in passing. She told him vaguely that she had sent her father a tape of her playing the piano, but trailed off when she was about to mention the talent show. She was still hesitant about veering _too_ close to the truth. She wanted to plant seeds, not throw things in his face that would make him suspicious of her.

He wasn't nearly as forthcoming about his own life but he spattered in small details. She would usually ask him about his previous career when Franks was around knowing the old man would catch the hint and jump in about Gibbs' time as a probie. He was all too happy to embarrass the retired agent. These genuinely amused her and made her laugh, but Gibb's wasn't nearly as thrilled. She couldn't imagine her father as the clumsy agent that he had once been. He and Franks bickered incessantly, in a way that Gibbs had noted, was starkly different than the way he and DiNozzo had once functioned. If anything, Franks was the silly one and Gibbs the all too serious probationary Agent.

"...got us into more than one mess mouthing off at some director of another agency," Franks recalled between the cigarette in his teeth.

"Me? 'm not the one who told the Director of the FBI his wife looked Uncle Fester."

"How was I supposed to know that was his wife?," Franks protested.

Kelly giggled at the two wishing she had been around to see them like this everyday. They bickered like an old married couple and loved each other like brothers.

"Kelly you want something out the fridge. Gotta be exhausting listening to the old grouch all day," Mike said from below them on the porch. The roof was coming along quickly with two set of hands working on it, despite taking breaks to work on Mike's tub.

"Do you even have anything that isn't beer or tequila in that fridge?," she asked knowing they had been living primarily off booze and quick meals despite the groceries Maria brought by.

" 'Course I do. Just can't cook it…" he said unashamed of how he was living. Kelly would be concerned for them if they hadn't been living this way for years. Living off take out and drinking themselves silly every night. In her whole time here, she barely saw either men eat anything that wasn't a microwave meal. Just enough to soak up the alcohol. Gibbs had been even worse. Mindlessly eating whatever grease dish Franks handed him, barely inspecting it enough to identify it as edible.

"How about I make yall something? Can't keep letting Maria's grocery shopping go to waste," she said jumping off the roof and landing effortlessly in her feet.

"Haven't had a woman cook for me in I don't know how long. Was startin' to think you weren't even a girl, Mas," Mike drawled with a satisfied smirk on his face as he settled back into the lawn chair.

"Chauvinist!", she shot back. Mike just laughed mockingly.

Walking into the outdated kitchen that managed to look worn despite the lack of use, Kelly looked around for anything that would make a good meal. The fridge was well stocked and the cupboards were packed with an array of spices and herbs. It became apparent to her that Mike didn't cook because he was lazy, he really just didn't know how. She was surprised Maria never cooked for them but seeing as her and Mike stayed at odds with each other, he was probably never on her good side long enough for that.

After a few hours Kelly had quite the spread prepared for the herself and the men outside. She had made separate dishes of steak and seafood enchiladas with a thick layer of melted cheese on top. She had even found the time to pull together an old peach spice cake recipe she had learned from her mother. She knew she went over the top with it but she wanted to make sure her dad was eating and she knew he and Mike could eat off of this for days.

She grabbed the dish towel, wound it up, and hit Mike with it. He growled in protest and in return she handed some dishes and silverware to him, ordering him to set the small table outside. He grumbled a bit about pushy women, but did what he was told.

"Gibbs! Can you come help me with the food", she yelled craning her neck trying to see him past the sun.

He didn't answer but the sounds of tools dropping and the roof rustling let her know he was coming. Once she was back inside she grabbed the deep steak enchilada and asked him to grab the seafood one along with the cake tray.

He let out a low whistle at the sight before him. "Wow, Mas. This is.." he trailed off a bit taken aback at the effort of it all. She had really outdone herself.

"Yeah well you guys have put up with me this long, might as well thank you for it," she responded truly grateful to he and Mike for allowing her to occupy so much of their time.

They walked outside together to find Mike sloppily putting the finishing touches on the table. Clearly he didn't have many expectations or didn't feel the need to try so hard just for the three of them. The neanderthal would probably eat with his hands and feet if I let him, she thought.

"Hungry, Mr. Franks?" she asked in mock politeness.

He glared at her teasing knowing he didn't like being called Mr. Franks and had only tolerated it when they didn't know each other. His glare was tempered once he saw the food she was carrying.

"Well I'll be. The kid's got some home training after all," awed at the amount of food before him.

Kelly ignored the jibe and simply set the food down in the center and instructed Gibbs to do the same.

"Eat up," she said gallantly. They certainly didn't have to be told twice. She wasn't even sure they tasted it. Just inhaled the food, side dishes and all. Neither said much but she could tell they appreciated the gesture and enjoyed the food. She was used to this. She didn't expect top level etiquette from the two former marines, knowing they only used their manners as a means to an end.

Later that night when Gibbs had headed back up to the roof, she and Mike stayed behind to clear up the dishes. Gibbs had offered to help but seeing a dark cloud on the horizon during dinner had him back on the roof at her insistence. None of them were tuned into the news so they didn't exactly know about the projected severity of the incoming cloud.

"Mas, I admit, you're makin' a lot of progress with him. Hell, yall're two roof sessions away from braiding each other's hair gossipin' 'bout American Idol, but he's no closer to knowing the truth now than he was when you first got here."

I sighed, "I know. And I don't want to waste anymore of your time if I'm not getting anywhere. I've been indulging myself. I need to have a conversation with him tonight. I have to be back DC in a month anyway and the FBI isn't gonna wait. I can't keep lying him. He deserves to know the truth about what happened to Kelly."

"What do mean what happened to Kelly?" Gibbs asked lowly suddenly appearing in the corner of the room.

Ice shot through my veins at the sound of his voice. Running back through our conversation I could see where, taken out of context, this all sounded very, very bad.

"Probie-" Mike started already seeing a storm coming that wasn't gonna be held off by a new roof.

"No Mike, what is it that you two have been whispering about down here that involves Kelly," he said temper flaring, but still confused. This was going downhill. Fast.

This wasn't Mike's battle. He had done his part, and now I needed to do mine.

I just slipped into autopilot and started to tell him the truth, "Kelly Gibbs isn't dead. Shannon is, but Kelly's survived and healed."

A silence settled over us. I kept my eyes on the floor afraid to look up. I could feel Mike shifting nervously beside me ready to intervene should Gibb's reaction take a turn for the worse. Throwing caution to the wind, I kept going. "I've been here for the past month and half, trying to find a way to tell you. Kelly wasn't in a position to return to your custody, because of...a third party interference." Now wasn't the time to go in-depth.

"You can resume a life with her if you so chose," I said feeling the air go out of my lungs, bracing for his reaction. It was still calm.

I looked up at him finally meeting his gaze. His eyes bore intensely into me digesting what I had told him.

"How?" he whispered barely moving his lips. "I..don't..believe you."

"It's tru-"

"Its not!" he screamed making me jump. The sound pinched at my ears and made my eyes well up with panic.

"Shannon and Kelly are go-" he cut his shout of indignation off and whirled around punched the wall behind him and grabbed his head as if was causing him agony.

Reflexively I reached out to go to him but Mike held me where I was with a sharp shake of his head.

Gibbs wasn't hearing and seeing her anymore just the flashes of his memories that flitted behind eyelids and tortured him with thoughts he couldn't control. His mind began to fall into place and the gaps in his memories that had eluded begun to fill too fast. And with it came the torrent of pain and suffering he had been keeping at bay. The distractions fell away and reality slammed into to him a semi on the highway.

Trying desperately to gain his footing he looked towards the brown haired girl that reminded him so much of the young girl, _his girl_ , that he had lost all those years ago.

Bracing himself against the wall of the kitchen, trying catching his breath he grounded out in a pained, broken voice, "Why? Why would you...How would you know?"

She looked at her father in the weakest state she had ever seen him. The man who locked away his emotions and never let his hurt show, physical or otherwise. If she they didn't get past this moment she wouldn't forgive herself. But she couldn't stop now, she had to keep pushing so they could overcome this hill and emerge on the other side.

"Because I'm Kelly. I'm sorry, Dad," she said trying to hold in her tears at seeing him in pain.

He was suddenly ramrod straight and looked at her for what felt like the first time. She saw his eyes pour over her features the same way Mike's had that day in Carlos' Cantina. But unlike Mike, he didn't need a point of reference to confirm what he saw. He knew this face, slightly changed by time and puberty. She saw the sparks flash and connections meet that had been so stubborn previously, snapping together. The bits of her stories, her mannerisms, the damn _cake._ His body began to shake where he stood and he looked into her eyes and saw the baby that had been dropped in arms 16 years ago at Bethesda Hospital. The fog had lifted and he saw her, really saw her for the first time in weeks. His eyes watered blurring his vision

"Kels," he managed to choke out before darkness overtook him and he collapsed to the floor.

 **Authors Note: As always, my loves, leave me reviews. They feed my soul and keep me going when I don't know how to continue. I appreciate each and every one of them including those that follow and favorite my stories. Love, peace, and chicken grease! -AW**


	6. Forward

"If we're gonna heal, let it be glorious"

-Great American Philosopher and Writer, Beyonce Giselle Knowles-Carter

If it hadn't been for my reflexes moving faster than I could think, he would've sustained anther head injury he couldn't afford this soon. It all happened so quickly but so slowly. One second he was standing straight up, the next he was collapsing to the floor. I reached him just in time to catch his head while Mike cushioned the blow to his body.

"Dad! Daddy, wake up," I said trying to remain calm cradling his head in my hands and finally resting it on my lap.

"C'mon, Probie you're too heavy for this," Mike grunted while he gently slapped his chest a few times. The panic in his voice not as hidden as he would like it to be.

"Where's his room?," I asked. I needed to get him on bed and possibly call a doctor. I should have seen this coming, I thought kicking myself. I didn't have much time to linger on the past when I felt Mike start to hoist him up. I followed his lead and we carried him to the bedroom down the hall. We gently placed him on the bed and propped his head up with some pillows.

"Is there a doctor we can call?," I asked Mike hoping he knew someone that could do something.

Mike gathered the blankets from the closet and started taking my dad's shoes off "Honestly at this hour I have no idea. There's one doctor in town and I doubt he could do much. Best we let'm just sleep it off and check on through the night. Aint been sleep much anyway. Shock and exhaustion ain't a good mix for nuthin but a cheap sleeping pill" he said. "Need anymore pillows, kid? Figure you'd wanna stay here with him til he wakes up."

Mike brought me several fluffy pillows and closed the door behind him. My father dominated the full size bed looking more peaceful than I'd seen in him in weeks. He needed his rest and I wasn't sure just what had been keeping him up at night. He'd long learned to sleep on nothing and didn't sleep much even on his best days. But I guess the roof and jacuzzi had become his new boat. He worked until he physically exhausted himself and his body forced a shutdown.

There was no way I was leaving him so I just curled up in the empty spot next to him and laid my head on chest snuggling into the covers. The room was surprisingly cool and calm compared to the main rooms that were just as hot as outdoors.

Sleep evaded me all night which wasn't unusual. I was too worried to sleep. I kept checking on him through the night and he tossed and turned a bit but for the most part stayed still. Mike checked in one last time before heading to bed himself, but not before promising me to come get him if something bad happened. I promised and he quietly shut the door leaving to feel lulled by the sound of my dad's gentle breathing.

When the morning sun begun to peak out from the horizon and spill into the room, he started to stir a bit. He was an early riser and never slept past 8 o'clock. I held my breath waiting for him to realize I was there. I buried my face into his shoulder, took a breath, and slowly sat up trying not jostle him too much. His eyes fluttered and lazily looked around and he muttered, "Kels.." Suddenly, understanding dawned across his features and he eyes widened finally looking at me, "Kelly."

He called me Kelly. He was talking to me! I tried to not show the hope I felt swelling inside.

I smiled hesitantly, "Dad, I -" I choked up suddenly too emotional to speak.

"C'mere", he said gently and pulled me down to his chest and hugging me tightly with his hand behind my head and the other around my back. I wrapped my arms around him and snuggled closer. "You know me? You really believe me?" my voice was muffled in shirt but he heard me.

" 'Course I do," he breathed kissing my head. I could feel his tears spill from his face into my hair and I tried to keep my own at bay but couldn't help the few that washed down my cheeks and stained his shirt.

"I can prove it, I can-" he cut me off before I could even bring up the files with the DNA and records as proof and said, "I know my baby girl when I see her. Saw it the first day you were here. Thought I was going crazy. Again."

"Missed you, Dad."

"I missed you too Kels, so much. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I couldn't protect you. I should've been there for you and Mom. I should've been there to protect you to stop him," he sobbed. He looked at me and cradled my face between his hands, "I can't believe you're here. How are you are here? Where've been? What happened?"

"I came by myself. Everywhere but nowhere important. A lot has happened. But s'not about me. Are you okay? How do you feel? You fell pretty hard." I wasn't comfortable talking about myself just yet. He sat up, still holding me close.

" 'm fine Kels, stop being vague," he said in a stern voice I hadn't heard in awhile. I knew it wasn't gonna be easy. In fact, I wasn't gonna walk away from this without telling him something. He'd want to know everything and I'd be in a bigger hole later if he felt like I was lying or editing in order to protect him. "What the hell happened? The truth, all of it, " he demanded.

"Can we talk about this after breakfast? It's a long, crappy story and I'm gonna need food to get through it," I said delaying the inevitable. This day was gonna be taxing. Someone would end up crying before it was all over with. Probably me.

"Kels...," he warned me shaking his head but relenting with a sigh. I smiled and leaned forward knocking him over with a hug. "Missed you, grouchy." His body relaxed and he hugged me tighter kissing my hair and running his hand through my hair.

"Missed you more, kiddo, more than you'll ever know,"he said his voice breaking. I could feel him tearing up again. "Even if ya are tryna distract me again," he said wryly not at all fooled by my sudden hug. My stomach growling broke us up and I giggled and pulled him from bed. "You sure you're okay?," I asked biting my lip. My father wasn't super old. Not even 50 yet but it was jarring to a man of his size, confidence, and age collapse so suddenly from sustained injuries and shock. " 'm fine, sweetheart," he softly kissing my forehead and pulling me along with him to the kitchen.

Walking into the main area of the house I noticed Mike wasn't around. Sensing my curiosity dad said, "He's not up yet. Won't be for a couple hours." Guess he didn't care to wake up until happy hour, I thought.

The kitchen was surprisingly spotless and all the dishes had been cleaned up from last night. I started toward the cabinets when my dad stopped me by pulling me back gently and motioned towards the table to left for me to sit. Once I sat down and faced him he pulled out some ingredients and a mixing bowl. Still looking down at the spread of utensils and ingredients before him he asked, "Still like chocolate chip pancakes?"

I could feel a smile that threatened to break my face and only managed to squeal and nod furisouly in response. I hadn't eaten chocolate chip pancakes since I left home. They made me wanna cry. Now I was suddenly craving them. Especially my dad's special pancakes.

He laughed at me, remembering I used to do the same thing when I was kid at the mention of his famous pancakes that he swore weren't special, and definitely not as good as the ones at the diner. We sat in silence, but I could hear the questions forming in his mind he was gonna ask later. I could see it in the way his eyebrows scrunched and eyes concentrated too hard on the task at hand.

He finally finished and plated the pancakes and bacon. His pancakes were always thick, deformed, and "ugly" as he called them. But never, ever burned. They tasted like heaven with just the right amount of chocolate chips, cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla. I had to stop myself from just throwing my head face forward into them like a deranged animal. Dad handed me a fork with a smirk on his face like he knew what I was thinking.

Darn fork didn't stop me from inhaling those suckers though. God, I missed these. Dad would always make them for me every saturday morning he was home while my mom ran errands in the morning. It was our thing and gave us time to talk alone about anything and everything. One year he came back from deployment early in the morning and the smell of of chocolate and cinnamon pancakes woke me and I jumped out of bed, running down the stairs to still find him exhausted in his fatigues making me pancakes. I spoke out loud asking him if he remembered that morning. He rolled his eyes trying to look exasperated at the memory but failing when the wide grin overtook his face and said, "Of course. Ya nearly gave us both third degree burns bowling into me. Strongest 6 year old I knew." I laughed recalling sliding around in the mix I spilled when I tackled him that morning.

I finished faster than I wanted and didn't even have room for seconds. I felt like I had eaten a stack of pillows. I needed another nap to sleep these off.

"C'mon kiddo," he said standing up. I put my dishes in the sink and followed him outback. He walked towards the beach to the side of the deck where a small boat was nestled upside down into the sand. "This one looks different than your other ones," I said politely noticing the difference in craftsmanship from what I remembered of his previous boats. He shrugged "Not one of mine."

"You didn't make this?"

" 'Course not. I'd never make junk like this," he said pulling it out of the sand and pushing it towards the water. I laughed. I didn't want to be rude initially, but this boat _was_ rather poorly made. No doubt it would get you from A to B, but obviously functionality had been the only requirement.

"We going sailing?" I had always wanted to go with him on one of the boats he made. "Bugged me to death about when ya were a kid. Might as well make good on my promise," he said. I giggled and grabbed the oars from the sand. The boat was large enough for two but would require some serious arm work from the person rowing.

He waited for me to return with the oars and helped me inside the boat. He pushed us off from the sand and jumped in with me. Paddling with ease he followed the gentle flow of the waves. The sky above us was so blue today I couldn't quite name the color. The sun was warm but not stifling as it had been. Probably because it was so early. We were far enough out to see the wide expanse of coast and just continued to float around the line, not passing the buoy that warned us of the drop off.

"Alright, Kels, no more stalling. Tell me." I hesitated and he noticed. "I can handle it. The worst is over."

I took a deep breath and started from the beginning and told him everything up until this point. I was a lot more specific than I had been with Mike, obviously and even told him the details of certain cases. I couldn't stop myself from divulging the worst part of the things I had done. He needed to know fully what I had become so it wouldn't be a surprise later. All the cases and people that haunted me at night and sat upon my conscious during the day. I couldn't stop myself from tearing up. My emotions had the tendency to get away from me when I was with my dad. I was scared he wouldn't accept me, scared he think I was some sort of animal. I could feel myself losing control and talking faster, choking on my tears and words as they poured from my heart. He didn't interrupt but I could see him taking the journey with me. His emotions went from angry to sad to helplessness and always reverted back to anger. He lashed out and punched the side of the boat as I describe the fear and pain I felt. I didn't know where it was directed so I kept my eyes on the gentle waves that licked the side of the misshapen boat. I could see the anguish in his face as I recounted the tales not being able to help myself from editing out things like torture, but the insinuation was there. He could read between the lines.

When it was over I just sat there, chest heaving with my eyes so filled with tears that everything was one massive blob of color.

"That all of it?" he finally said flatly. He voice warned me, again, that I'd better not be holding anymore information in. I had been so specific, I had probably answered his questions.

I nodded my head silently. My hands shook now that everything was out. It hung and the air now and I prayed it wouldn't keep us apart. All the people I had killed, the illegal things I had done, the people I had betrayed. Even if betrayal was a gray area for spies, since was such an integral part of their line of work, it still ate at me to admit to one of the most loyal people I knew that, for many people, I couldn't be trusted. I wasn't necessarily ashamed of the things I had done, not all of it at least. Like 'Choa mentioned, much of what we did was in the name of justice. In a way I had made peace with it, but everything was easier to swallow when you were your own judge.

"If you wanna know anything else, just ask," I choked out barely able to catch my breath after everything I had said. I had never recounted everything before, much less in such detail.

"You're pulling 're nervous, sweetheart? Am I the only that knows?"

Of course he had noticed me unconsciously pulling away from him to protect myself from his reaction.

"The whole story? Yeah pretty much. You're the only person I felt like I had to explain myself too", I said tearfully not able to quell the sound of it in my voice.

"Saying that like you've done something wrong," he said lowly.

I looked at him incredulously. Had he not heard me? Reading my thoughts he continued, "Didn't choose this for yourself, Kels. 'm not gonna see any differently than I did before. Your actions, your accomplishments, or failures aren't why I love you. Never have been, never will be. Love you because you're my daughter and there isn't anything you can do to make that lessen."

I blinked tearfully at him still afraid to be vulnerable, "But you were so mad just now…"

"Not mad at you. Mad at this Zetes bastard, at this Anderson person, and myself because I had I known that you were out there suffering at the hands of some maniac I would have turned the earth over lookin for ya. 'M so sorry I gave up, I didn't know. You have to know that I would have searched the world to- " His voice broke off and his body shook, emotions wracking his frame as if he were trying to stay upright at the force if it all. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the side of the boat. I could see him blaming himself for the years he remained in the dark about my life. He couldn't do this. He couldn't shoulder this guilt. "Can you ever forgive me for not being there for you. I can't imagine...I let him get to you-" I didn't let him finish. I jumped at him into arms and wrapped my arms around neck. I knew he would have protected and saved me if he had known. In all my years with Zetes, I found ways to check on him and probably could've have reached out to him for help, but I was too scared. Zetes would hurt him if he found out. I had long made him believe that I couldn't remember my family before him and was committed to the Institute. I had verbally abandoned my father to keep him safe and out of Zetes' line of interest.

"It's not your fault, Daddy. I knew everyday that if you knew, you would've come for me. I wanted to go but I didn't see a way out without you getting hurt too. It wasn't worth it. I promise I'm fine now. I'm okay. Zetes is gone and there's nothing to worry about. You can't hold on to this, I kept it from you on purpose. I made sure you didn't know. He would've hurt you. Knowing you were safe was all I had, I couldn't jeopardise your life."

He held me close as tight as he could with one hand behind my head and the other wrapped tightly around my waist. He moved us effortlessly to the center of the boat sitting cross legged in the open space between the two benchs on either side. He sat and rocked me for a bit before whispering, "Don't you ever keep anything from me again. I don't care what it costs me, you tell me if you're in trouble and I'll come get you. I'll have your behind if you ever keep something like this from me again you understand me?"

"Okay," I sobbed finally letting the tears flow freely. Once they started I simply couldn't stop them. The weight of these years finally hit me. The box I had kept everything locked away in finally bursted at the seams from the overload over the years. I hated Zetes, Anderson, the people sworn to protect that had let me down because I wasn't human to them anymore, just an asset. A weapon. I wasn't a weapon, I wasn't infallible. Damn, these years had hurt. Air escaped and I struggled to catch it again as sobs tore through me. Everything felt so heavy, so suffocating. All the scars opened all at once, the stitches that I had hurriedly patched trying to pull myself together after years of abuse and fear popped and my god, it _burned._

But here under the sun, in a boat, in the middle of the ocean, I could feel myself coming together again. I had been a jigsaw of broken, open wounds that hadn't healed and thus, didn't mesh together. But now that I had stopped trying to stop hold them together again they could fall and heal naturally. My father rubbed circles on my back and hushed my tears. I didn't let many people close, and never initiated contact with anyone. Hugs weren't a common occurrence for me, usually forced on me by Choa. As a result, I didn't receive much affection. But here in the arms of the only person I knew would love me unconditionally, I realized how much I had missed it. Missed burying my face into his shoulder when the world seemed to big, too harsh to face. Just relishing it, brought on a fresh wave of tears. "Missed you, Daddy," I sobbed into his chest holding him impossibly tighter. " 'm right here, Kels. Not going anywhere. Not gonna let anyone hurt you again," he promised.

I'm not sure how long we stayed in the boat just holding each other together. I planned on making this about him, helping him. But somehow, like always, he'd managed to get me to open up instead. But thinking back to his problems I could see how this may have been what he needed too. A break from his job, yes, but I'd like to think my return would prove to be a source of happiness for him if he could ever move past what had separated us. I wanted him to go back to work someday. Mexico was him denying himself of where he really belonged. I had a feeling he wouldn't be able to run from it much longer though. Something would bring him back.

We finally pulled away and decided to head inside knowing Mike would be wondering where we were. Besides the sun was getting higher in the sky and soon the lack of sunscreen would come back to bite us.

We didn't say much on the way back but there was a peace there that didn't need words. As the boat his shallow water we hopped out and pulled it a few feet ashore leaving it on the coast just out of reach of the tide. Stumbling through the sand I wondered what time it was and if Mike had left for happy hour yet.

I could see from the back window that Mike sitting at the table, eating the leftover pancakes we hadn't eaten.

"Never struck mike for the chocolate chip pancake type", I mused. My voice still a little scratchy from crying.

Dad rolled his eyes, "Mike'll eat anything before drownin 'imself at happy hour."

I giggled at them stepping through the sliding glass door. Mike looked up at us cautiously before sensing we were okay.

"Nice to see you on your feet again, Probie," Mike quipped. I smiled. Their little banter never ended. Dad ignored him and headed for the fridge to grab a beer.

"I take it everything is settled?" Mike asked me. I smiled at him, "Yeah Dad and I are all good. He knows everything now."

Mike suddenly looked serious and looked at my dad, "Probie about the crime scene. It was my case, whatever happened-" Dad cut him off, "Not your fault Mike. I know you wouldn't have caught on had there been any signs. Can't catch 'em all," Dad said diplomatically. He knew Mike might think he blamed him for what happened but I don't think that ever crossed his mind. He knew Mike and how good he was. It's just that sometimes, they're better.

They shared a look and dropped the issue. "Well, this all gettin to me now," he said all fake emotionally. "Probie's happy and well now. It's all come full circle."

"Getting soft in your old age, ?" I teased. He glared at me and threw a stray chocolate chip at my head. "Ow!"

"All this calls for a celebration. Want a drink kid? Ever had real tequila?," Mike said standing up and walking toward the cabinets.

"No alcohol, Mike. She's 16," Dad said walking back over to sitting area couch. I joined him. "C'mon Dad, that legal here," I couldn't help teasing a bit. I didn't even like alcohol. He arched an eyebrow at me, "Not a chance." I laughed at him. I had assassinated rogue leaders, but god forbid I drank. I went to the kitchen and made myself a smoothie with some of the fruit lying around. I loved smoothies and hadn't had a fresh one in awhile. Mike leaned over the counter and whispered, "Wanna a little kick in that slushie of yers,kid?," he asked shaking the tequila bottle a bit.

"Mike!," Dad shouted from the other room. I shook my head in amazement. Even with all that hair growing all over his face and in his ears like bill goat, his hearing was still as sharp as ever.

He rolled eyes and headed towards my dad in the living room, "Loosen up, Probie, Uncle Mike aint gonna let nuthin happen. Kids these days join the war but cant even drink til 21…" his voice trailed into the other room and muffled by walls. I giggled to myself as Mike continued to debate what my father viewed as a closed argument.

I finished my drink and poured a big glass before following them. They bickered most of the afternoon and evening and cut the game on. Mike nagged my Dad without much response other than the occasional barb that fired him up again. I rested on my father's otherside and relaxed the rest of the evening tucked under his arm.

In the coming months, I knew I'd face more danger. I'd face more monsters, the worst the criminal world had to offer in fact. But as long as I had somewhere to call home, and my father there to get me through my worst days, I wasn't afraid. Here in this small house I finally felt I belonged somewhere.

Authors Note: Sorry this took longer than usual. After this chapter, I'll begin merging Kelly and Gibbs back into the NCIS world along with the Criminal minds universe. This is mostly Kelly's story so we'll follow her through her BAu job while meshing her into episodes with Team Gibbs. Let me know if there's anything specific y'all would like to see play out. As always please review they keep me going especially when writers block hits.


	7. Shalom

"I didn't break it! It wasn't cooperating, so I asked it to nicely," Kelly insisted sitting beside Gibbs who was currently trying fix her broken AC.

"By kicking into submission" He stated flatly not looking up from the damaged internal piping. "Big fan of torture are ya, Kels?"

"No. Not a fan. Torture isn't nearly as effective as it looks in the movies," she a bit defensively.

"Might have to reconsider your morals, you did quite a number on the filter here. Could've came and got me earlier instead of making it suffer."

"Well look-you want a smoothie? I have fresh fruit."

"Sure."

Standing up she headed to the kitchen and set to work pulling the drinks together. The local market in town was fully stocked with loads of fruit to make the smoothies she was obsessed with. Mamey, mangoes, strawberries, bananas, everything that it took to make her happy in this cold world. She had made Mike and her father some with all the excess fruit she bought and they liked them well enough. It took a lot of fruit to cover all the protein and extra vitamins she laced her father's drink with and Mike kept spiking his claiming he like he needed a little extra "stank" in it to make it digestible. They lived like pirates.

Once the smoothies were ready, she padded back towards the back window of the living room and sat back down handing her dad his smoothie.

"Manage to revive it?"

"Just barely. Gonna need a part for the long term. You'll be fine for the night though."

"Yay, thanks, Papa Bear," she cheered laying her head on his shoulder sipping from her drink.

He simply kissed her hair in response and packed his tools back away.

The knock her door startled her a bit. She made eye contact with her dad and silently conveyed that she wasn't expecting anyone. She got up and headed for the door and saw Maria through the window.

"Hola Maria. Que paso?," she asked opening it. Maria had never been here so Mike must've have told her where she lived.

"Hola Kelly. Señor Gibbs esta aqui?" Kelly nodded and led her inside where Gibbs was sitting in the living room.

"Señor Gibbs, phone call. She sounds muy upset," she said handing the phone to Gibbs. He took it and answered, his easy expression immediately shifting. Kelly left the room to give him some privacy and offered Maria a smoothie.

About 10 minutes later, Gibbs walked back in to find Kelly and Maria conversely passionately in spanish over half drunken smoothies. Kelly noticed him during a pause in the conversation and arched an eyebrow. "Gotta head to Washington on the flight," he stated lowly.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah some trouble with an agent. Got herself into a little trouble."

Gibbs could tell she could see through the vague explanation but didn't elaborate and she didn't ask. He handed Maria her cellphone, thanked her, and watched her leave.

Kelly knew this would happen. Something would call him back, but it didn't feel like enough to keep him there judging by the set of his jaw. He was trying to make this an in and out visit. She also knew he wasn't gonna let her help. He picked up his bag and smoothie. "I'll be back as soon as I can, Kels."

"Ziva's good person. She's being framed. I hope you can clear her."

Gibbs paused and looked up at her. She continued, "I was having tea with Amus over phone this morning. He told me a cafe in Georgetowne exploded. Three people died, and Ziva is a...person of interest. FBI's Most Wanted list."

He nodded. "I'm sorry I have leave so soon. I have to go help her."

"Don't be. I know you do. I'd think less of you if you didn't go. Let me know if I can..help."

He smirked, shook his head at her, and kissed the slit down her eyebrow, a new habit of his. There was no way on earth he'd risk her safety.

"Can come with me to the airport though. Need someone to drive Mike's truck back."

Kelly couldn't drive, not really, but Mike couldn't drive him at this time. Siesta had done a number on him by now. Not that he wouldn't try anyway.

"Okie dokie," she agreed and followed him outside and into Mike beat up pickup truck.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Mike's truck had to be from the eighties, though the condition made it look like something from the fifties. She was surprised each time the thing even cranked. She drove slowly and easily since the roads were so empty in town. All she had to do was keep pushing the pedals. Couldn't be too hard right? The problem came when she had to get on the highway with other cars.

"Do me favour when you get back?"

Gibbs turned to her confused and nodded. He wouldn't deny her much.

Pulling onto the highway she looked over at him and smiled, "Teach me how drive when you get back?" His eyes widened as she floored the gas to catch up with an opening and merge into busy traffic.

"Jesus, Kelly! Slow down!" Gibbs shouted clutching on to the side of the car.

"Why? With all these cars going 80 out here?"

"Wouldn't have asked ya to drive if I knew ya didn't have a license" he barked through gritted teeth.

"You don't need a license to drive, you need a license if you get caught driving."

Gibbs should've known she couldn't drive since she had been riding a scooter around town since she got here. But most 16 year olds at least had a permit for before 9 o'clock driving. There weren't any side lines on the highway so he couldn't even ask her to pull over.

"For God sake use your mirrors, Kelly."

"How am I supposed to use all three at once?," Kelly argued genuinely confused.

Gibbs looked at her and thought he was gonna have a coronary right there. The car swerved just nearly missing an 18 wheeler, "Whoops."

"How'd ya manage to get to this point without driving lessons, Kelly?"

She shrugged, "Ochoa usually drives. It's never been a problem til now."

He scoffed and shook his head.

She glared him, "You know you're one to talk, from what I hear you're not exactly getting any awards for road safety any time, officer."

"Eyes on the road!," He yelled as she just barely missed seeing the signal for a car switching lanes in front of her. The airport exit was upcoming and she was in the wrong lane to get off. She looked at Gibbs and he looked at her.

"Kelly..." he warned.

"You might wanna hang on," she smiled serenely.

Gibbs grabbed the handle on the hood as she crossed four lanes of traffic almost straight across. He just closed his eyes and prayed she'd at least survive this if he didn't. By the time he opened his eyes they were pulling into the airport drop off lane.

"You know this car isn't as clunky as it looks. Great speed and handling on it," she said cheerily. Gibbs didn't answer her. Instead he took out the phone she lent him and called Mike.

"Hey Mike, need you to grab a cab and come pick up your car from the airport….No, nothing is wrong with it. I'm sure Kelly'd love to explain why when you see her." He snapped the phone shut and ignored Kelly's protests. No way in hell he was letting her drive back.

He got out the car and walked over to her side. Leaning his arms on the window he said lowly,"Wait for Mike to come get you."

She pouted, "It wasn't that bad."

Gibbs leaned in to kiss her eyebrow and rubbed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. He whispered, "Stay out of trouble and stay with Mike while I'm gone. I'll call you when I land. Love you, sweetheart."

"Love you too, Daddy." He half-smiled at her and took his ticket and passport from her. Kissing her hair one last time, he took off and headed for his flight.

Kelly watched him go and pulled into a parking space next to the drop off area. Kelly waited obediently for Mike to show up.

Twenty minutes later, a small yellow cab pulled up and Kelly got out of the truck to meet Mike. She pulled a few pesos out of her front jeans pocket to pay the driver.

"Kelly, what you do this time?" He said as soon as he got out of the cab.

"Nothing. He's just being all twisty since he has to head back. Doesn't want me driving alone when its about to get dark." If Mike knew about the highway incident she'd never hear the end of it.

"Can't blame 'im. The police around here are funny at night unless you're holding a few hundred pesos to buy your way out a ticket," he said catching the keys Kelly tossed him.

Kelly and Mike headed back together and argued about the probability of Gibbs returning to work. Mike said being there would only drive him back here, and she didn't disagree. He wasn't motivated enough yet. But Kelly bet him that if he was called in again for the right case, under the correct circumstances, he'd crack.

"Yeah, right. If anything being back twice would make him disconnect his Maria's phone."

"Fine. I bet you a year's worth of drinks at Carlo's Cantina that if Dad gets called in one more time, he'll be staying for good."

"Oooh, but are you good for it, Kelly belly? Uncle Mike would hate to drink away all your allowance money."

"Yes Mikey, I am. And if I'm right, I'm taking that fancy teak jacuzzi back to Washington with me."

"Gonna fill up Daddy's backyard with a buncha pubescent boys? I'd buy tickets to that fallout. No wonder he has me on babysitting duty."

Kelly laughed at the thought her father pulling up seeing a bunch of half-naked boys in his yard.

"I got fresh pack of cards from the airports. Feel like losing your pension check?"

One week later

By the time Gibbs had wrapped thing up with the FBI and cleared Ziva, Kelly had already swindled Mike out of everything but the shirt on his back.

"I'm out," Mike sighed frustrated that she managed a full house for the fourth time.

"Don't feel too bad Uncle Mikey. At your age-"

"Finish that sentence and I'll shoot you like I should have 3 hands ago," he growled and went in search for another beer. Kelly laughed at him and gathered her chips.

She had liked hanging out with Mike this past week. He was a sore loser, but that's what made it so fun. Over dinner and cards they swapped stories of botched undercover assignments and compared battle scars. He had upped her shoulder wound with a bullet to the knee he took in Germany in the 80s. They laughed about old partners and stakeout sessions in cars that reeked out takeout. She didn't talk about this stuff with her father, not wanting to sound flippant. He still blamed himself for allowing it to happen. But with Mike everything was much lighter and anything was fair game.

Gibbs walked through the door rather abruptly with bloodshot eyes looking like he hadn't slept in days. The case had really worn him out and he was more worried about Ziva than he would have liked to admit at the time.

"Daddy!" Kelly hopped up and ran towards Gibbs smacking into him full speed. He grunted but returned the hugs just as tightly sighing contently, laying small kisses on her forehead. Having her back in his arms calmed his fears that she was in some kind of danger without him knowing. They had talked everyday he was gone but hearing she was okay and seeing it for himself were different things.

After this past week of dodging the FBI and dealing with uncomfortable confrontations with old friends, he was glad to be back with someone he wouldn't have to let down again. He looked over her shoulder and silently thanked Mike for watching her while her was gone.

"Glad you both haven't killed each other."

Kelly giggled, "Well Mike was gonna about 3 minutes ago. He doesn't like to lose."

"Mike doesn't like to lose," Mike mocked bitterly in a girlish voice. "Bullshit, Caught her counting cards when were down at the Cantina. They lay crooks across the coals for stuff like that."

"I won my prizes fair and square, Uncle Mikey."

"Lose ya shirt did ya, Mike?" Gibbs quipped stepping into the living room with one arm still around Kelly.

"Everything but! She let me keep my shoes, but won the laces off me."

Kelly smiled innocently at Gibbs and ignored Mike's whining, "Everything all cleared up?"

Gibbs smirked at her, "Like you don't already know."

"Touche. Glad everything worked out. Hungry? I'm making Chiles en nogada. Maria gave me the recipe to try."

"Starving, thank you." Gibbs settled in the living room with Mike with a beer finally letting go of the stress of the case. Being back gave him feelings of longing that he hadn't expected. He kept telling himself Mexico was where he belonged. He felt relaxed here and past was squared away back in Washington where it belonged. Ever since Kelly had returned, he felt more at home here than he did in that empty house. He even put the house on the market to release his connections to DC for good.

Gibbs was determined to make a life in Mexico. He wasn't going back to NCIS. He'd be able to actually enjoy his time with Kelly. He liked being able to talk and play with his daughter everyday. Having her show up had shocked him to all hell, but it had given his life meaning again. Grounded him to the earth in a way he hadn't been before. He had a reason to get up every morning, he didn't need to drink himself to sleep anymore. She wasn't an adult yet so that made him feel like he had a few years before he lost her again. He could spend all his time with her uninterrupted.

At least that's what he thought. Until he came back to Washington to pack the house and Tobias came by needing help with his daughter, Emily. When he told Kelly on the phone that he wouldn't be back for a few days because of it, she mumbled something to Mike about taking his jacuzzi home. They always wagered together so he didn't think much of it.

For some reason, he was the only one who could help. Again. He was starting to think no one would allow him the quiet life he so desperately wanted with Kelly. The case had drained him more than the last and thrilled him in a way he'd been trying to squash as he sat in the basement looking through old photos of Kelly and her mom. A pang hit his chest looking at his first wife with his daughter. At least I have one of them back, he thought. He couldn't ask for more. He couldn't ask for them both back. No matter how much he wanted it. Losing his wife had made him unsuitable for anyone else. As many of his wives had told him, he'd always love Shannon and her memory more than them. But, god, losing his daughter had been what had driven him near the brink of insanity. He tried to fool himself with a parade of redheads who weren't his wife, but never had he ever tried to be a father again. Didn't feel like he deserved it. Not after he failed Kelly.

When Jen appeared and tore him a new one about his job, it snapped his resolve. He wanted his job back. But he had his girl to consider now. Would she want to come back? She seemed to enjoy Mexico and living with Mike. Her friend Cho-something lived there and she had left town more than once to see him. Would she be willing to give that up? He wasn't leaving her in another country. That wasn't an option. If she wanted to move to half way across the world, then he'd pack up move her wheverever she desired. They wouldn't be separated again.

He called her that night from the basement running his hands over the boat he'd left behind.

"Hola Papa!"

Gibbs smiled to himself at her cheery greeting, not yet over being able to hear her voice again whenever he missed her.

"Hey, Kels, you okay? You and Mike behaving?"

"I'm fine! I just ate and made another smoothie. Mike let me answer the phone even after he won it off it me so I guess he's being nice."

"Listen, Kels, I wanted to run something by you. What would you think of living in DC again?"

"Permanently?"

"Mhmm."

"God, finally!"

"What?"

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to ask?"

"You want to be in DC?"

"I want you to take your old job back. It's where you belong."

"Didn't say anything about NCIS."

"But that's why you're staying."

"It might be.." He trailed off grudgingly.

"It is."

"Would you okay moving back in with your old man again?"

She paused. "You want me to move in with you? In the old house?"

"Mmm. Unless you have some friends you'd rather stay with?" Gibbs trailed trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He had gotten used to her being around and nothing made him happier than the idea having her here with him again. But if she wanted her own space, he'd give her that. Maybe she'd been away too long to want to live her father again…

"Can I paint my room?," She asked hopefully. She remembered the Pepto Bismol pink her room had once been and while she loved it at the time, she had changed since.

Relief washed over Gibbs as he let his fears melt away and couldn't help the laugh that followed, "Sweetheart, I'll paint the whole thing pitch black if that's what you're into now."

Kelly giggled,"No, I'm actually more into turquoise these days."

"I'll run to hardware store and get some swatches. Gonna need my things from down there. Would ya mind-"

"Dad, I've literally been packing as you've been talking. You didn't bring much so I'm already done. Mike is booking me a flight now, and I'm on my way to pay the accumulated tab on my cottage. Need anything else from down, here?"

Gibbs smiled, "No, should be it. Call me when ya land."

"Aye eye, Gunny. Over and out."

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Her landlord was a nice, shorter lady with long hair and a sweet smile. Sometimes she would come by with bread baskets and fruit of what she didn't sell at the market. Kelly would miss her and the landlady was genuinely sorry to see her go. She paid her rent in full ahead of time and made conversation whenever they saw each other. She kept the cottage in impeccable condition and had even fixed the air conditioner without reducing the repair costs from the rent.

Kelly handed her the keys and hugged her goodbye with promises to visit and recommend her to friends.

Ochoa pulled up outside of Mike's house and honked his horn. She kissed Mike's cheek and headed out. "Thanks again, Uncle Mike", she called over her shoulder.. He had become family over these past couple months. She suddenly wished he didn't live so far away. He waved from the porch and watched her go.

Choa drove Kelly to the same airport she had dropped her father off at.

He stopped in front and helped her unload her things from the trunk.

"Guess this is goodbye again, Cho."

"Never goodbye, just until next time, Captain."

"Choa about everything, thank you I don't know what I would've done. I-"

"I love you more, babe. I'm gonna miss you buddy."

She was getting so soft lately. She hates goodbyes. She looked at him teary eyed and realized how much she really loved her friend. She wasn't used to being without him. They were never more than a stone's throw away from each other for more than a few days. That wouldn't be the case anymore. So for the first time in their friendship, she jumped forward and hugged him as tight as she could.

"I love you. I'll miss you. How am to supposed to live without you?"

He enveloped her in his famous bear hugs and whispered lovingly, "You're not. Don't get all on gooey on me now. You better call me at least once week and come visit."

She laughed and pull away just enough to look in his warm brown eyes, "I'll stab you if you don't do the same. I'll tell your Mom, too."

He rolled his eyes, "Don't even get that woman started."

She giggled, pulled away, and grabbed her things. "I'll see you when I see you Cho."

"I expect weekly updates on my new favorite government snitch."

"Shutup."

"Run off and catch your flight, babes."

Kelly hugged and kissed once more and ran off before she missed her plane.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Six hours later, she knew why they called it the Red Eye. The fastest available flight didn't have first class so she rode the whole way there with a some guy basically sleeping in her lap and a toddler kicking the back of her seat. TSA had tried the last nerve she managed to preserve during the flight and if one more person bumped into her, so help her god, she'd open fire in this airport. It was 2:30am and she prayed her father would be here soon as she exited the deboarding area and walked towards the door dodging the greeters waiting for other passengers.

In the distance she spotted a silver-haired man staring at her. She stopped and stared back. After a moment or so he smirked and approached her.

"Thought you wanted me to shave, Kels," he said handing her smoothie from a local shop.

"Daddyyy," she drawled sleepily and shuffled into his arms taking the smoothies and sipping it gratefully with her head laid on his chest He smelled like sawdust again. He kissed her hair gently and took bags from her. Leading her to the Charger parked out front he asked, "Enjoy that smooth, luxury flight back? Coffee's top of the line too."

She glared at him. He smirked at her, "That good, huh? Hate I missed out on round two."

Her father had thankfully drove cautiously for her sake, but she had almost spilled her smoothie twice and her stomach was doing so many turns she couldn't even finish it. Stepping out the Charger, she looked up at the house and the nostalgia crashed into her like a tidal wave.

The years had passed, but the house remained the same. It was a little older, but still the same and well taken care of. She stared up at the window to her room and remembered looking out it on rainy days when it was too wet to play. Back then her parents would put on movies and bake cookies with her. Between her eating half the cookie dough and her father eating the cookies right off the sheet, her mom used to complain that they never left her any.

The front yard that used to be littered with her toys, was now impeccable devoid any life. The driveway that was once a mural of stick figures and "Maddie + Kelly" markings, looked power washed.

She could tell other people, other women, had been here and left there own marks if the painted over chips and nicks in the window sill and porch were any indication. Like scars that were still visible.

The house looked like a shell of what it used to be. It was just a house now. The resounding sense of loneliness made her take a step back and a wave sympathy made her chest tighten just thinking about lonely her father must have been. How did he come back here everyday knowing she and her Mom were gone? She suddenly hated herself for not finding her way back to him sooner. He had needed her and she was trapped doing some maniac's bidding across an ocean.

Gibbs caught Kelly looking up at the house when he walked up behind her and could see from posture that she was either blaming herself, or feeling sorry for him. Gibbs didn't need anyone's pity, especially not his daughter's.

"Kels, you okay?" His voice seemed to startle her and turned and looked at him masking her tears.

"Yeah, just weird to finally be home is all.."

"C'mon, lets get you inside before the mosquitoes eat ya up."

They walked on the porch together and Gibbs pushed the door open letting her in first and, for the first time in what felt like forever, he locked it behind himself.

Kelly stood in the middle of the living room surprised to find it emptier than the outside of the house. There was one couch, no rug, and an old tv set up against the wall. The kitchen table was foldable with two chairs, and from here she could see the kitchen was almost completely bare. She knew already what he would never actually tell her. This was all that was left after 3 divorces. The fresh wave of sympathy was washed away by the boiling rage she felt for these women who had reduced his living conditions. Where was the furniture her mom had picked out? Her drawings from schools? The house was painfully spotless, devoid of life and love.

Gibbs stood behind her and sighed. He knew she wasn't gonna like what she saw. Diane has replaced the furniture Kelly remembered as a kid with something she had deemed more "modern" while he was at work one day. He'd been furious but the damage was done and the furniture had been donated.

She had packed his more personal things away and replaced everything else. She took it all with when she left though, and he used some old furniture from storage to take up space.

He didn't want her to feel bad for him. He never used this room anyway and it wasn't like he couldn't have added more to it, he just never saw a need.

"Basement hasn't changed. Your room was packed up, but everything is in the attic. Was gonna buy you a new bedroom set, but figured I'd let you do that."

She didn't answer him. Just kept staring at what was left. She turned and buried her face into his chest trying to hold back her screams. "I'm sorry I didn't come back sooner, Daddy."

Gibbs shrugged in forced nonchalance. "Would've if you could've. I'm sorry I didn't come get you."

"Dad-"

"Hey, don't. Okay? Stop blaming yourself."

She bit her lip and nodded,"You, too."

Gibbs pretended to not hear her request. It was an impossible one anyway.

Gibbs took her upstairs and showed her where the extra soap, towels, and washcloths were. He told her to wash the trip off and join him in the basement when she was done. He knew she'd need a few hours of work to shake off that jetlag that would make her groggy and cranky, but not tired enough to actually sleep.

He headed back downstairs and grabbed her bags to place them in his room. She'd stay in his room until they could decorate hers, or at least put in a bed in it. Whatever she preferred.

They could go shopping later and she'd have her things sent from the safehouse.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He'd been telling the truth about the basement, Kelly thought once she had made her way back downstairs. It looked the exact same way it had before she left and that offered a sense of home the rest of the house hadn't. It seemed he'd been adamant about this space.

Gibbs looked up from sanding the boat to find her at the top of the stairs in the green USMC shirt that had always been her favorite. As she descended the stairs with her beloved drink of choice, he tossed her a fresh sanding block that she caught easily with her other hand and set to work. They worked together silently through the night until about 4am. Since it was Friday, Gibbs and Kelly had one last weekend before his schedule set in.

"Got anything to keep you busy during the weekday, Kels?"

Kelly looked at him confused. Had she not told him? Running back through their boat conversation she could've sworn she had. She thought his memory might be still fuzzy on him. Then she realized she told him she got a job, just not the nature of it.

"Uh yeah. Thought I told you. Amus set me up with an FBI job. I have to go see the supervisor Monday about it."

Gibbs took a sip from his mason jar of bourbon, "Some kinda internship?"

She paused and then whispered, "Nope. The real thing."

Gibbs' face screwed up like he didn't want to believe her,"You're going to be a FBI agent?"

"Well, only really part-time. Since I'm still a minor."

"What department, Kelly? Better not be gang or drug related," he said almost yelling now.

"Dad, calm down. It's not anything like that."

He relaxed a bit and prayed she would tell him something like accounting or Human Resources.

"It's with the BAU-" she started calmly trying to pacify him but he soon cut in.

"Serial Killers, Kelly?!," he yelled not even bothering to control his temper now. His voice seemed especially loud and harsh in the quiet, empty house.

"It was my choice. Out of everything else, it was the best option."

"Kelly-"

"Dad, there's no reason to be up in arms. I know you don't approve and I don't like it either. I hate the FBI, but it was either this or something similar. I didn't have a choice and I'm doing it to protect Choa and all the other Institute kids that are being left alone because I agreed to this."

Gibbs rubbed his hands roughly across his face not able to keep the endless scenarios of her getting hurt, or worse, running through his mind. It was one thing for him to do this, but it was whole other for her to be dragged into this line of work. He tried to think about her previous work as little as possible and it was easier when he felt that it was all behind her. But now he'd spend every minutes of everyday worrying about her more than he already did.

"I just got ya back, Kels.." Gibbs whispered.

"And you're not losing me."

"I could."

"You won't."

"You don't know that." He said sharply.

"You're right, I don't. But I'll be careful and do my best."

"You had better," he growled at her.

Silence settled between them. "You mad at me?," she asked self-consciously. She didn't want him to be upset or worry. She knew she could handle what was thrown her way. But she didn't want it to come at the cost of their relationship.

"No," he said without hesitation and pulled her into a hug. "I'm not happy bout it, but I'll be damned if it drives a wedge between us."

"So we're okay?"

"Always."

Kelly couldn't help the yawn that came out of her, the weight of the day finally making her tired enough to sleep.

"Let's get you to bed, sleepyhead."

"Where are you gonna sleep if I have your bed?"

"Couch."

"No, you'll hurt your back."

"Back's is fine."

"No it's not. Share with me. Your bed is big enough. And don't argue, I'll bug you all night if I have to."

He rolled his eyes and agreed. He sent her up first while he double checked the windows and the doors making sure they were all locked up for the night.

His team didn't know he was back for good just yet, so he didn't have to worry about explaining the locked door yet should any of them need him this late.

Gibbs soon joined Kelly in the room where she was already out like a light, legs spread across the bed. He snorted and thought, Is this how you share, Kels? He gently moved her to the side and settled next to her. She promptly rolled back over and snuggled into his side. He laughed silently at her wild sleeping habits that she apparently hadn't grown out of. Gibbs wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close kissing her hair as she snored gently. They had a busy few days and things were about to change for them. Their schedules would be different and he'd have to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn't work herself too hard. He needed to call Tobias in the morning for information. He knew he was being overprotective, but it made him feel better knowing he had someone he trusted to check in on her and right now Tobias was the only person who knew about Kelly being back. Gibbs shook the thoughts from his head and tried to find some sleep. He could worry in the morning.

Author's Note: This chapter was longer than the others so I hope you all likeD it. I've seen some suggestions for the BAU team and I'll take them into consideration as I continue to craft the upcoming chapters. I did see one about a Reid x Kelly pairing but I'm unsure about it since Kelly is still solidly a minor and Reid has to be around 23-26 when the story starts. A touch illegal but I do love the idea so keep them coming. As always leave me reviews and let me know what you liked, hated, and anything you'd like to hear more about or specific scenes and cases from either show you wanna see come to life in this Universe of mine.

Love and rockets,

AW


	8. New Girl

The gentle pattering of the rain early in the morning was the first thing Gibbs noticed as he woke up in a bed he hadn't slept in in years. The nuzzling at his side startled him a bit and made him look down. Gibbs relaxed and gentle smile stretched across his face. Kelly was snuggled into his shoulder, sound asleep. She had officially been in his life again for 2 months and he still wasn't used to waking up knowing she was there, safe with him again. Knowing she was back home, officially and permanently, made his heart warm all over again. Hugging her closer to place a gentle kiss on her head and slowly extracted her fingers from his shirt to start getting ready for work.

Gibbs stumble into the kitchen in search of the one item he had left unpacked, his coffee machine. The gurgling of the coffee machine filled the silent space, emitting the warm aroma of the Jamaican blend. He would need more than one cup in order to face the day ahead. He grabbed the edge of the counter in the kitchen until his knuckles turned white trying to center himself and settle the worries that plagued him. Kelly was going to work today and no matter how how many times he thought about it, it still hit like a semi. He had to remind himself that he wasn't completely alone in this. He had talked to Fornell over the weekend while he and Kelly were at the park. She had run off to play with the dog of some elderly couple when Fornell had rang him.

"Yeah, Gibbs?"

" Your message last night sounded particularly tense. You don't usually give me a heads up before you stake your claim on a crime scene."

Gibbs scoffed and shook his head,"Not about a crime scene for once. Bout Kelly."

Tobias sat up straight up on the sofa."...She alright?" Tobias hesitated a bit. He loved to yank Jethro's chain but if he needed something from him, especially concerning his daughter, it was serious.

"Yeah, look, just keep an eye on her will ya? She'll be working at the BAU in Quantico. Apart of some deal between her and the government."

Tobias felt for his friend. He had told him about Kelly working at the FBI. He was shocked to say the least, but after everything else Jethro had told him it was least shocking part of the tale. Gibbs rarely confided in anyone and never asked for help. But neither had he until his Emily had been in danger. He knew the feeling.

"I'll make sure she's okay, Jethro. The agents there are damn good at their jobs and they're decent people. You don't have anything to worry about."

"Not worried about the people as much as the job."

"Can't say I'd be any better off it were Emily."

"'m being overprotective, I know but-" he broke at the end unable to finish. He wiped his face in frustration. Words were never his strong suit.

"I know. I'll do what I can." It was short and simple, but from Tobias it meant he'd do everything in his power to make sure she was well looked after. He'd keep him informed should something happen.

"Thanks."

The ping from coffee maker broke his reverie. He poured himself a mug and made quick work of breakfast for Kelly and himself from the food they bought.

Gibbs couldn't remember the last time his fridge and pantry had been this well stocked. She even purchased a new flat screen for the living room that Gibbs refused to acknowledge that he actually liked and was looking forward to watching the game on. Kelly had gone overboard on the new stuff for the house and now he was expecting a new living room and kitchen set to arrive Saturday. It didn't bother him since it made her happy and he never used the main floor anyway. He remembered the look on her face when she saw the bare minimum living conditions he called home ever since his last wife had cleaned him out. She was determined to make their house a real home. The way Shannon had, he thought sadly.

Gibbs finished the food and set the table with the new plates that were too tasteful to mesh with his beat up foldable table. He headed upstairs to wake Kelly up for breakfast.

He peeked through the door and saw that she had now spread across the bed on her back with her arms rested above her head and hair wildly spilling across the pillows. Gibbs smirked at her disheveled state. Kelly had always slept like a wild animal. The scene reminded him of adjusting her in her bed at night when she was younger so she wouldn't fall off.

Gibbs sat at the side of the bed and gently shook her shoulder, brushing her hair from her face. "Kels, wake up. Gotta get to work soon."

She moaned and pushed his hands away, pouting at the disturbance. He tickled her sides until her eyes flew open and she glared at him. He simply smiled back innocently, "C'mon. Don't wanna go to work hungry."

"Pancakes?," she asked her glare disappearing and looking hopeful.

"Nope. Pancakes are for Saturdays." Kelly groaned and buried her head under the pillows until Gibbs took it away and tugged her to a sitting position and pulling her to her feet.

Gibbs had to all but carry her downstairs. Kelly wasn't a morning person and she was dreading doing this every morning already. She quickly ate her breakfast but didn't feel any more awake than she was 20 minutes ago. Just full. She reached for her dad's coffee desperately seeking out a source of caffeine and took a gulp. It went down like tar and made her shudder. They had sugar. They had milk. He refused to use either here it seemed. Kelly glared at him, and he just laughed at her. "Always did like learning the hard way."

"I'm gonna go get dressed," she mumbled ignoring him.

Kelly headed back to the room she was sharing with her dad until the paint in her room dried. She decided to go with a clean white color for the walls since she had chosen more colorful decor for her room. She had driven her dad crazy with the possibilities comparing swatches and fabrics until she was sure he would never go shopping with her again.

Turning towards the closet she had taken over, she looked at her options. She needed something that would make her look adult and professional. She didn't wanna overdo it and make herself look insecure so she nixed the dress and heels idea. She settled for a nice, black blazer and slacks combo with a smart white dress shirt underneath. Her ankle suede boots were perfect for the outfit, yet still sensible. She combed her long hair out and fashioned into a crown braid with a few wisp hanging around her face. Looking in the mirror she realized she still needed something to complete the look. She opened her mother's jewelry box and pulled out some pearl earring framed by a gold design with tiny diamonds inside. She gave herself a quick swipe of nude pink lipstick, grabbed her phone, and headed downstairs.

Gibbs was sitting on the couch all dressed and ready to go. When she rounded the corner and he looked up at her. She twirled and smiled. "First impression?"

He silently looked her up and down. She trusted his judgement. Kelly had never seen him with his team but knew his hard to please reputation. He nodded once. "Looks fine. Not about the clothes though."

"I know, I just don't wanna seem like some silly kid playing dress up." Kelly looked down at her outfit. She had played it really safe, she didn't wanna stick out too much. She figured if she kept her head down and worked hard, she'd be left alone and perhaps even set free soon.

Gibbs stood up and walked over to her noticing she seemed a bit unsure of herself. She was too young to be a federal agent, but obviously exceptions had been made considering the circumstances. Her outfit made her pass for older than her 16 years, she could probably push 21 or so without too many difficulties. Seeing her all dressed up put a twang in his heart. She was growing up so fast, he missed so much of her life. "Don't worry so much. Believe in ya." kissed her head assuringly.

"Thanks, Dad."

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Quantico was out of Gibbs' way and Kelly knew she needed a car soon. Amus had a license made for that he was giving her today, but she knew Gibbs was gonna give her a hard time about actually driving after the airport trip in Mexico.

"Want to help me pick out car? I can't make you make this drive everyday for me."

"Long commute is better for my blood pressure than the thought of you behind any wheel."

Kelly snorted as they slide through a shoulder in the road going 70mph. He ignored the pointed look she gave him. He continued, "If we don't get any cases this week, we'll swing by the dealership over the weekend after the furniture gets here."

They pulled in front of the FBI building 15 minutes ahead of time. Butterflies flitted in her stomach as she gazed up at the building. She had been to several federal buildings all over the world without half the nerves she had now.

"Can practically hear you overthinking this, ya know. You'll be fine."

Gibbs hoped he sounded more confident than he felt, but he didn't doubt her at all. He had to swallow his urge to walk her in and scope it out like her first day of school. She had to do this alone.

"Thanks, Dad." She leaned over and kissed his cheek goodbye and stepped out the car. Gibbs made sure she made it inside without incident before he pulled away.

Kelly didn't allow her trepidation to effect her outwardly. She strode forward confidently, the clicking of her heels against the marble floor echoed in the halls where a few people milled about with files. She approached the stern security guard at the front and showed her badge and building pass. He allowed her to pass through the security checkpoint. She was instructed to meet with Erin Strauss, the Section Chief and the direct superior to her supervisor.

She was going in this blind since she didn't read anyone's file ahead of time. She enough prejudice against government agents as it was.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a series of desks in an open space illuminated by the windows near the ceilings. The walls were a muted grey color that was probably meant to be soothing. White would have been too clinical for such a space, she decided. There were several people working and chatting amongst each other. The environment seemed friendly and the employees nice. When she entered the space a few faces looked over at her curiously and then at each other. She barely managed a glance at them. She was due in Strauss' office in 2 minutes.

Above the open area was a balcony that wrapped around the wall. It held a collection of offices for the more senior members and the supervisors. She walked up the stairs on the side of the room and across the balcony steps. The glossy plaques on the wall indicated the people the rooms were assigned to. Towards the center she saw the one she was looking for. Thankfully the door was open and the Section Chief looked up, sensing her presence in the doorway.

"Ms. Frost, come in. Shut the door," she smiled tightly. Kelly shut the door and walked over to her as the chief stood and shook her hand. She gestured for her to take a seat and Kelly sat taking a subtle look around the office. This woman seemed no nonsense. The bureaucratic type with a soft side if the photos of her family were any indication. Her clothes were unassuming, sensible, yet feminine. She wasn't nervous, her expression was actually perfectly controlled. Just wound pretty tight and determined to assert her authority. Kelly wasn't a drinker, but she'd pour this woman a strong one.

She sat behind her desk and examined Kelly. Strauss hadn't known what to expect when the Director of the FBI sent her a new agent without allowing her to be cleared through her, or even Aaron first. But the young woman that sat before her didn't seem to fit the bill for all the mystery that surrounded her. She was beautiful and quite young, yet the manner in which she carried herself exuded a presence well beyond her years. But she had a record. A vague, and an alarming one. From the Directors tone, it had been made clear that such questions regarding it, were above her pay grade. Strauss, herself, didn't trust her a bit.

Kelly was unfazed by the Strauss' critical eyes on her, and simply let her make her mental notes. She kept her expression calm hiding the amusement she felt. She wasn't exactly subtle, but the federal type rarely were. They like to play their power cards knowing you'd have to just shut up and take it.

"I would say I've heard so much about you, but you and I both know that isn't the case. I don't assume that's a mistake."

Kelly arched an eyebrow. So Amus hadn't been just placating her when he said he'd make the details scarce. She liked keeping her personal life personal, but this wasn't going to buy her any favor with the team or Strauss. Mystery and secrecy meant you couldn't be trusted.

She continued, "You have the position and your supervisor has been made aware of the spot on his team being filled. As...apprehensive I am about this entire process, the team can't afford to be too picky at the moment. The team needs another experienced profiler immediately. I have nothing for you here so report you'll report to Aaron Hotchner from here on out. He's just two doors down. Good Luck, Special Agent Frost. " With a meaningful look, Strauss dismissed her and allowed her to leave again.

This was one of the things that bothered Kelly about feds. Their hierarchical structure meant jumping through pointless hoops and sitting through meetings where she was talked at rather than with. This was just a pointless checkpoint to let her know the Chief would be watching, waiting for her to slip up.

Kelly turned and made her way to the close office door of Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. She knocked and heard him call her in. She opened the door to take in the man standing behind the desk reading an impossibly thick file. Agent Hotchner gave her a once over and regarded her without the political politeness that Strauss wore. No smiles, no over-examinations. This man was an experienced profiler. He didn't need 5 minutes of awkwards silence trying to make her squirm.

"Special Agent Hotchner? I'm Mason Frost. Nice to meet you."

"Hello. Please, sit." She did. His office was similar to Strauss. Must be a general theme. Grey walls, minimalist decoration and the obligatory family photo. Or in his case, a photo turned toward his desk that she couldn't see. She would guess it was his child since he wasn't wearing a wedding ring. Though the pale marks around his finger suggested that he may have been married at one point. He seemed like the type to be married to the job.

"I'm going to be frank with you, this position you have filled was not at the consent nor recommendation of me or anyone in this department. I don't like having agents shoved under my supervision without proper process. I need to trust the members of my team and I can't lend that to you, especially considering the way you got here."

"I understand." She did.

"However, I have read your journal profiles that were submitted to the CIA. They are comprehensive and I'm impressed with your grasp of your suspects' motives and psychological makeup. While I'm apprehensive, I won't deny your proficiency."

Kelly gave him a small smile and thanked him. He seemed nice and fair. She didn't have many expectations, but he certainly put her worries at ease. They continued to chat and she told him what she could of previous cases and her projections based on the evidence. He had some questions about some of her conclusions from her journal and how they were executed which she gladly answered. She didn't have many people she could talk to about he work, and Zetes never cared about the how, just the end results of her decisions.

From below, Kelly and Hotch were unaware that they were being watched by the rest of the team. Morgan and Garcia had been chatting away when the new recruit had strolled in, only glancing at them briefly before stalking off the Strauss' office.

"That the new, profiler?" Garcia gestured with her head.

"I think so," Morgan said staring up Hotch's door.

Rossi strolled up behind beside them and looked over wondering why the wall had their rapt attention. He looked back down at the file in his hands and shook his head, "Staring at the wall won't change the color."

"You didn't see her?," Garcia said swirling around to face him.

"See who?"

"The new profiler! She's talking to Hotch now."

Rossi furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "I didn't know he was interviewing anyone."

"Not an interview, according to Garcia, she's already got the job," Morgan said lowly.

Rossi closed the file he was looking at, "Guess he's not wasting any time. We're a bit short at the moment, so we need the help."

Garcia looked back up at the office and then turned to Morgan, "Wanna check her out? I haven't read her file yet."

"You make a habit of reading everyone's file Ms. Nosey?," Morgan teased.

"Of course. C'mon," she said quickly as she pulled Morgan along and looked over her shoulder at Rossi, "Coming, Rossi?"

Rossi opened his file back up and headed for his office,"No. thanks. I think I'll just meet her the old fashioned way." Rossi remembered the way the team had welcomed him and it had put them on a bad foot for a bit. He could at least extend her the lack of suspicion he'd wanted.

Penelope and Derek headed towards her office and shut the door behind them. Penelope immediately starting typing away and found her name newly added to the team roster. Derek leaned over her shoulder to get a better look.

"See? This is how I knew. She was officially added by Human Resources last Friday."

"What do we know about her?"

Penelope began searching her name through the database system, "Patience is a virtue, my love. Okay, so-" Penelope stopped when the file came up blank. Outside of headshot, a name, and title there was nothing there. "How can there be nothing? Everyone has something. She doesn't even have an address or date of birth."

"Maybe it hasn't been added yet. They have been slacking lately." Morgan said. He was still waiting on his over time to process.

"But there's a deadline for this stuff. It had to be created and filed before she was officially brought in."

"Well, try running her name throughout the FBI database in general, maybe they're transferring over information."

"Okay, let's see," Garcia typed furiously into the database running her name. "Nothing. No name, no social, no nothing."

"Maybe she did some confidential work under another name," Morgan suggested trying to suppress his growing concerns. "Mason and Kelly are common first names, but Frost isn't so maybe that's her real name."

"Good thinking," Garcia ran the new parameters and several pages popped up with flaggings attached to them. "Oh goodness."

"What is it?"

"Look at these flags on the files. They're high priority cases." The pages began flying across her screen, overlapping one another. High priority cases had blinking stamps across them read, Homeland Security Warning

"So she's worked high profile, confidential cases before this? She looked kind of young for that."

Garcia opened the page and received a cautionary notification from the archives including several CIA notices.

"Derek...She didn't work these cases. She was the reason for them. She was a person of interest for an explosion of a factory in Cedar City,Utah in which over 150 personnel members were killed. She was wanted for connections to a warlord in Somalia, arms dealing in Russia, the disappearance and death of several embassy workers in Iran, child trafficking in Latin America….. It just goes on and on."

"Are there any pictures, Garcia? We can't just go off one name."

Garcia began processing through the articles and case files of any images that would connect the two women. A black and white image of a woman sitting in a field on the hood of a Jeep appeared clipped to an confidential file. The woman was lounging amongst several Taliban and a military grade weapon in her hands surrounded by a group at least 20 young girls . She had blonde hair in the image, donned fatigues, and had shades on her head but the likeness was undeniable.

"That's her," Garcia whispered her voice shook as she stared at the picture. "Derek she's a criminal. And not even just a criminal who did some sketchy stuff that wasn't all that consequential, you know like me. A real one who has shot and killed innocent people and sold child like a,a monster," her rambling broke off at the end as her voice. broke and tears gathered in her eyes.

Rossi walked in suddenly startling her, "Hey, Garcia could you pull something for me? I need a some details from a kidnapping case in Oregon from a few years back."

Rossi took in her teary expression and Morgan's clenched jaw and paused, "Am I interrupting something…?"

"No. It's the new profiler she-come look," Garcia got up and waved him over to sit in her seat. She sat him down showing him what she had found.

Morgan simply stared at the screen not saying anything. Why would Hotch hire her? Did he know about this? He didn't want to make snap judgements but it was hard to deny what was in front of him as anything other than the worst case scenario. A beeping noise made Rossi's hands freeze over the keyboard as the file pages began closing. "What's happening?" He wasn't good with technology.

"I don't know," Garcia hopped back in her seat ready to counterattack whatever had targeted her system, "Looks like the walls are coming down. Someone knows we're looking. All the information is being pulled and removed from my access."

"Like a hacker?," Morgan asked wondering who would want access to this.

"No. the coding is too complex for that. I'm trying to stop them but they're moving too fast."

"This ever happen before?"

"Only once when the CIA blocked me from..," she started to say absently until she realized what was happening. The CIA was confiscating the files from FBI records.

Someone didn't want them seeing these files. Before she could open her mouth to tell them, the files were gone and they was staring back at the empty headshot that seemed more menacing than it had a moment ago. The room fell silent.

"I need to talk to Hotch," Rossi stood up and quickly headed for the main room. Garcia and Morgan followed him out the door.

Hotch had his reservations about the new agent, especially regarding her background. Hotch had approved every member of the team beforehand, including Garcia who had also found herself in legal trouble before the FBI had given her an alternative opportunity. But Frost's file was impossibly thick even with redactions by the CIA. He didn't know what she had been sent to do or where her motives lied. She was skilled and no doubt knew how to put him at ease to keep him from suspecting anything based on her body language. Her demeanor was warm and disarming, but she was hiding something. At best she was sent by upper command to be the eyes and ears for this department. Ever since Emily passed the team was being looked at by the Bureau for the events surrounding her death and the way the team was handling it. At worst, there were too many possibilities to consider.

He would keep an eye on her and he had no doubt she would do the same. Their combined skills would have them playing mind games on each other until one of them felt compelled to show their hand. He didn't trust her, but he wasn't allowed to question her about the case files he had found. It wouldn't be long before the rest of the team would find out. They all had clearance to access the edited confidential information. None of it painted her in a good light and left one asking questions that led to the worst possible conclusions. Secrecy and confidentiality didn't make for a great team dynamic.

"Your place on this may have been a decision made far above Strauss and I, but your longevity is not. If I feel that your incapable of completing your duties or following orders, I will relieve you of your responsibilities immediately," he said firmly. His eyes conveyed what he didn't say aloud. Kelly knew he had seen something, she could read the accusations. Amus said her work history would be made available, but the FBI Most Wanted List had been her sweet spot long enough to be archived. The powers above were probably allowing it to hang in the database system as an ever present threat. If she disobeyed or stepped out of bounds, they revive those alerts and she'd be the most wanted person in the more than one country.

"Understood, sir."

"Good. The rest of the team is just downstairs."

Hotch stood and led her towards the door. Just as they stepped over the threshold, Rossi and the team stopped in front of him nearly running in them.

"Ah, here they are," Hotch said calmly ignoring the bewilderment and urgency in their eyes as they looked between. He knew they'd find out sooner or later, but he didn't expect it to be this soon. Either way, he gave nothing away. He felt the same as they did but his hands were tied. The Director had made it clear that he had no say in the matter.

"This is Special Agent Frost. She'll be joining the team."

Kelly felt like she could cut the tension in the air as silence settled among them. The tall African-American man seemed to be the most openly accusatory though he didn't say anything. There was a tall, older dark-haired man who was subtly sharing quick glances with Agent Hotchner over her head. The full figured blonde woman looked like she had seen a ghost. Her clothes were a little too unique to be an agent but Kelly liked her style all the same. Seemed like a small team, even including her. Though the size of the group didn't temper the hostility brimming on the edge that made her skin feel hot. She decided to break the tension with a small smile and finally speak up.

"It's nice to meet you all," she gently but didn't move to shake their hands. They probably wouldn't take it and she wouldn't know who to start with anyway.

"Where's Reid?," Hotch asked trying to dissolve the tension by shifting the subject.

"Right here. Sorry I'm late, I didn't realize there was an impromptu meeting today," a young man spoke up cheerfully walking over to the group oblivious to the atmosphere. He seemed almost as young as Kelly with a lanky build and floppy brown hair.

"There's not. This is our new team member, Special Agent Frost."

Reid smiled politely, albeit a bit awkwardly, and waved. "Nice meet you, Special Agent Reid."

"Its uh, I actually prefer Doctor," he corrected nicely.

"Oh, nice. Did you got to medical school or do you a PhD.?," Kelly questioned politely. He was the only one that wasn't trying to stare holes into her face.

"Three actually. Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering. What brings you to the BAU?"

Kelly opened her mouth to answer and noticed everyone else seemed to want to know how she would respond until Hotch cut in to save,"I need to get to a meeting with Strauss. Frost, hand in that paperwork I gave you to Garcia before you leave today. Reid show her the desk next to you she can use."

Reid pointed her in the other direction and she walked off chatting politely with Reid about his time at the BAU. It was easier than talking about herself, and she preferred to listen to others anyway.

The others watched them walked away until they were out of earshot. Hotch knew what was coming and wasn't ready for it. Explaining this to Rossi was one thing, Morgan was another entirely.

"Hotch, what's going on?," Morgan asked tensely.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play that with me, you know what," Morgan said trying to keep his temper level. He continued, "Do you have any idea what the FBI has on her? The CIA? Why would add someone like to the team? Especially after what happened with Prentiss."

"Morgan, you may not like all the decisions I make, I understand that. But you do have to accept them." Rossi looked between them quietly reading tension. Morgan had always spoken his mind and Hotch had never been in the business of explaining himself to the team. His defenses were up more, and it usually took longer for Morgan to get him to this point.

"I'm gonna go," Garcia said scurrying back, her jewelry clicking with every step she took. She hated when her team fought.

"Accept them? How can I accept what you're shoving down our throats knowing what we saw?" Morgan paused trying to read Hotch's face and he could see the guilt in his eyes. The one that let him know that Hotch wasn't as sure about Frost's place as he wanted to make everyone think. Morgan scoffed, "You know what? Nevermind. Your call to live with, man." Morgan walked away leaving Hotch and Rossi on the balcony alone.

Rossi turned to look at his friend as he took a deep breath and returned his gaze. "Dave, I know its not-"

"I'm not gonna give you a hard time, Aaron. Getting some heat from above?"

"A bit. I don't know a lot, but it's on purpose."

"You don't think you'll be able to trust her?"

"You seen her file?"

"Oh yeahhh," Rossi drawled and shook his head. "Was wondering where your head was at for a minute there. So what now?"

"I don't know. The team doesn't need any more distractions or a reason not to trust each other."

"So why don't you desk her? Keep her off field duty and in the office. How old is she anyway? She doesn't even look old enough to buy a lotto ticket, much less carry a gun."

Hotch sighed in resignation. He hated having his hand forced against his better judgement, "Because those weren't my orders." Without another word Hotch stalked off and headed for Erin's office leaving Rossi in the hallway to watch Frost and Reid chat from the balcony.

The sun outside was high in the sky and despite the humid air, Frost felt the air wash into her lungs and free her body from stress in her shoulders. The day had been a bit crap and she needed some comfort food. Thankfully it was finally over. Kelly hailed a nearby cab and headed for NCIS to meet her dad for lunch.

All the careful optimism she had felt walking in had been snatched from her with one look from the team. She spent the duration of the day sitting at her desk, filling out forms and getting death looks. Morgan probably hated her the most, followed closely by Garcia who still managed a cold shoulder despite her obvious fear. She treated Kelly like the boogeyman but was still determined to stand up to her. She couldn't fault her entirely for that and kind of admired her resolve. Rossi looked more stern and disapproving but stayed in his office so she couldn't exactly place him. Reid was nice. Out of everyone, he seemed like the most of out the gossip loop and probably didn't read whatever the others had see. He talked a lot, babbled really, but it was nice. She liked listening to him, he knew quite a bit so she enjoyed asking him random question just to see what little facts lied in his head.

Leaning back against the seat she sighed wondered just how she was going to make this work. They all had to work together, so perhaps work would eventually distract them enough to ignore the barriers between them. But just by reading their body language and the bits of information she had gotten from her supervisor, they all seemed closer than coworkers and bore the scars of having seen each other through some personal battles. For the first time in awhile, Kelly suddenly missed her friends from the Institute. She had never been the outsider before, always the centerpiece. No one had ever made her feel like she didn't belong but this was obviously going to be the awkward high school experience she had never gotten.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the NCIS. She leaned forward and paid her driver plus a tip for the silent ride. She wouldn't have been very good company anyway.

Stepping out, Kelly walked towards the security gate and flashed the guard her badge and gave him her name. Her father had given security the heads up in case she ever needed to visit so she was granted immediate access.

The elevator doors to the bullpen opened and she looked around curiously. When she was a kid, her father didn't really have an office building she could visit. Warzones were where he spent his time, and living on base meant she was surrounded by his work without really understanding it. The bullpen was more spacious and bright than the FBI office she had been assigned to. The room was a rows of cubicles with generous spaces between each row. There was a balcony space far above their heads that led to a few rooms upstairs.

No one really looked up from their desks when she walked in noticing her visitor badge. She searched for her dad, but he wasn't in her immediate line of vision. She walked to right and noticed the desks facing her were empty. Looking over she saw her father's silver head and strode over in front where he was typing away with one hand and shaking an empty coffee cup with the other. She placed both hands on his desk and leaned in,"I'll buy you another coffee if you buy me some ice cream, old man."

He looked up at her and glared playfully, "Coffee is cheaper than ice cream. 'Specially the kind you like."

She shrugged, "I'm worth it. You shaved your mustache. Thank God."

He nodded and stood from his desk, "Though you liked the mustache and hated the beard."

"Oh, I hated both. The beard and stache combo made you look like Santa's alcoholic younger brother. But moustache gave you creepy old man vibes."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and sighed putting his jacket on, "Can always count on you to be honest, Kels."

"That's what I'm here for. C'mon I need food and sugar, I'm starving," she whined dragging him to the elevator.

The local cafe where Gibbs got his coffee also served sandwiches and ice-cream. It was a nice mom and pop parlor that Kelly wished was in Quantico too. The nice hardwood floors and comfy couches and tables gave it a comfy feeling. Gibbs and Kelly ordered their food and sat down waiting for the waitress to serve them.

"How was your first day?," her father asked sipping from his fresh jamaican blend black coffee.

"Tense. Nice. Kind of awkward?"

Gibbs nodded."Normal for a first day."

"It wasn't," she lamented as the waitress came over and place their food and drinks in front of them. "By the time I left the supervisors office, my whole team found out about my less than stellar track record at the FBI."

"What happened with you and the FBI?" No matter how much Kelly told him, there was alway something new. On the boat in Mexico she had told him random big things but had left out details. Most likely never wanting him to be blindsided by the worst of what went on.

"You know how people say the devil is in the details?"

"Mmm."

"Well turns out he's in the headlines. My saving grace is in the details. Which, thanks to whoever edited my file, have been redacted."

"More to the story then."

"There always is."

"CIA only cares about covering their behinds. The boss?"

"Fair. He and his superior are really intense. I think if I unfastened their top buttons they'd explode." Kelly said recalling that their well fitted clothes seemed to be physically keeping them together.

Gibbs scoffed. "Give 'em some slack, Kelly."

"Yeah, I know. The Bureau didn't give him much say about me joining the team. Amus did say they would force his hand, but I didn't think about how that would make him feel about me. I didn't give it much thought back then, because I only cared about coming to see you."

Gibbs nodded, "Know the feeling. Ziva joined the team the same way. Prove yourself and he'll come around."

Frost sipped at her smoothie knowing he was right. It was only Monday and she already wanted a good weekend to recharge. That wasn't an option though, and she was expected at work at 8 o'clock sharp the next morning. Hopefully they would get a case or something and then she could throw herself into her work and prove herself that way. She wasn't confident in her skills to get them to like her, but she knew she was a good profiler and her work ethic would speak louder than her people skills.

While Kelly and Gibbs continued to talk about his recent case, Tony watched them from the other side of the cafe. He and Ziva were supposed to be out questioning a suspect and had only stopped in for a quick bite when he saw Gibbs sitting at the table with a young, pretty woman he didn't recognize.

"Zee-vah. Zee-vah!," Tony whisper hissed from behind the pillar to his partner who was staring at the pastry case.

"What?," She said annoyed and turned around to face him.

"Lower your voice and come here," Tony gestured from behind the pillar.

Ziva walked over already agitated with Tony's antics for the day. Her feet hurt and she had a hunger headache. The last thing she felt like doing was playing into another one of Tony's juvenile games.

"Don't turn now but Gibbs is having lunch with some woman that is definitely not a redhead on your 3 o'clock."

Ziva turned expecting see one of the women from the case they were working. He usually made a point to get close to women that showed in interest in him for information. But this girl wasn't a suspect and was a lot younger than any of his ex-wives.

"Well, she has some red in her hair. You can see it when the light hits it."

"Yeah, but she's not his type. Don't get me wrong, she's gets a solid 10 from the Tony DiNozzo hot scale, but I didn't think younger women were his thing. Maybe he's having a midlife crisis."

"Tony he's not having a midlife crisis. It doesn't even look like a date. They're just talking, not even laughing or anything."

"I wouldn't either. Have you met Boss? He's not exactly a comedian."

Ziva rolled her eyes at Tony. While she was admittedly curious, they didn't have time to wonder about every mysterious element of Gibbs' life. Even with Gibbs' full dossier, there were still things that made her wonder about her Boss.

"Let's go, Tony. Gibbs is gonna murder us if we come back empty handed," Ziva pushed her nosey partner out the door and headed back to the car.

When they were pulling out the parking lot, Ziva spotted Gibbs tussling the mystery woman's hair while she licked at the ice cream in her hand. It was an odd gesture for someone his age with a love interest. Maybe Gibbs had found someone new. He had been a lot happier since coming back from Mexico and everyone was happy to have him back. He seemed more at ease and, aside from the strained relationship between him and Ducky, he was doing better. Maybe his new, young, hot girlfriend was the reason.

Authors Note: Okay this chapter took me a lot longer than the others and I'm not really happy with it. Kelly will begin working a case so let me know which case y'all would like to be her first. Anything after Prentiss' death is up for grabs. Also, let me know how y'all feel about Hollis Mann. She is apart of the this season on NCIS that I'm writing Gibbs into. I don't personally care for her, but I know Kelly being in Gibbs' life may change the way he perceived Hollis and set a different tone for their relationship. As always leave reviews and let me know how it was. Thanks!


	9. Ghost of the Past

Kelly managed to get through the next couple days uneventfully. The team hadn't received any cases so she spent most of her time digging into cold cases and reviewing cases that local PDs sent in for the BAU to give their opinions on that didn't necessitate fly outs. These were manageable and she found herself genuinely enjoying finding the holes in their investigations and giving them new angels to approach the case from. Most were pretty standard. Kidnappings, disappearances, a series of murders that may or not be related, but nothing the local official couldn't solve.

She liked working alone and, minus Hotch's insistence that she send her recommendations to him for approval before submission, no one was breathing down her neck. Her team was still wary of her but the lack of cases kept interaction to minimum, especially since she usually just put her earbuds in and typed out as many as cases as possible to the beat of whatever new album had dropped.

Sitting in the basement with her dad, their nightly ritual consisted of Kelly trying to chip away at some age old case while her dad sanded his boat in silence. The companionable silence only ever being interrupted when she needed to bounce her ideas off someone. She knew of her father's reputation as NCIS's best investigator but she couldn't help but be taken aback by how good he was. He challenged her and made her second guess her assessments. Combined with her profiling skills, they managed to hammer out many of the finer points to give the local PDs something to go off of.

"You're not thinking about every aspect of this. What are the motives? Money drives most people, but not everyone's vice is printed by the treasury."

"So just jealousy?"

He shrugged, "Be surprised what people do for so little."

Once she had him read through his report, which he begrudgingly did after she laughed at him having to do so at arms length, she retired for the night happy to have a stack of reports to turn into Hotch the following morning. She was getting carpal tunnel from all the paperwork but she felt productive and Hotch seemed satisfied with her work. He hadn't said much to her but, mostly because of Gibb's proofreading, he had yet to throw it back and make redo it.

The next morning she found herself bored at her desk having done much of what was needed for the day. Her neck hurt and she couldn't feel her butt anymore. She was supposed to be reading through some old case but the words started blurring together and she ended up playing angry birds for the rest of the morning. Lunch time couldn't come around quickly enough. Most of the time her coworkers spent that time together eating in a circle in the office or going out together, which never included her. They weren't mean or anything, just gave her a lot of space pretended she wasn't there. She hoped they would eventually slip into tolerable politeness, but that had been shot hell after her third day. Except Reid, he always talked to her when he saw her.

It was finally lunchtime and she couldn't wait to get her hands on some korean food and a smoothie. Walking down to the local cafe she ordered her usual and settled in the seat. The cafe was one of those nice trendy spot that had begun taking over DC and bleeding into Quantico. They were usually inspired by eastern cultures but nowhere near as tasty as the authentic thing. Eating alone was kind of sad, she thought. The teenage side of her wondered if this what it felt like to be a friendless loser eating alone in the cafeteria. She wondered absently where Maddie was if she was in high school in the area still. She didnt have friends ever since being back and it was finally settling in as she watched University and high school student giggle over gentrified food. She kinda of hated it.

Until she realized she wasn't alone anymore.

Looking up, she met the eyes of a ghost. Or what should have been one. Harry Moore sat looking at her pleading her not to dismiss him from her sight.

She tapped her nails on the table and gave him a quick once over. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?," she greeted icily.

"Look, I need some help," he said looking around shifting in seat, looking every bit the suspect of a crime she knew he was. Three years ago, 27 people watched Harry run into a burning building just before it exploded. The action made sense since his sloppy spywork was finally catching up with him and his cover had been blown. Too many people wanted him dead, and it was assumed he took the fastest way out since it was only a matter of time before someone else did. Kelly despised Harry. He talked too much, he didn't listen, and his breath always stunk of alcohol.

Kelly wondered absently if she could still give him the slip or whether the drugs in his system would make him sharper the way it usually did.

"I got myself into, into, uh, a bit of trouble….but i swear on my mother's life I'm innocent," he whispered shakily. He kept looking over his shoulder and jumped at the sound of someone speaking spanish behind them and looked around like a maniac.

"Stop jittering, if they, whoever that may be, were here they'd have already dragged you out. You're not exactly subtle," Kelly sneered referring not only to his paranoia but the loud hawaiian shirt he wore. He looked like a tacky miami tourist.

"I needed something that made me, you know, blend in."

Kelly didn't know how dressing like a middle aged, tropical tourist made anyone blend in in Washington, DC, but she didn't care enough to ask.

"I'm leaving," she said and grabbed her lunch tossing in the trash and walking outside. He quickly caught up with her, rounded to her front, and grabbed her shoulders and leaned in, "I wouldn't come to you if I wasn't desperate."

"If the smell of alcohol weren't so strong, I'd be able _smell_ your desperation. I just don't care," she said shoving his hand off and walking away again.

"C'mon kid! You're just gonna leave me here to die?," He shouted, jittering in place.

"Knowing you, you brought it on yourself. Not a spy anymore. Find someone else," she said not turning around and walked back to work leaving Harry to twitch alone in the shopping square.

The last thing she needed was to get wrapped in some Harry concocted nonsense. He was always screwing someone over trying to make a quick buck. If it came back on him, then it was long overdue. She only wished it had happened sooner. Probably would've saved a lot of trouble and lives had karma doled itself out sooner.

The day ended quickly and Kelly hopped on her scooter to the park. After walking around the lake a few times and playing with the local dogs, she headed back to meet her father at work. Everyone had their own way of releasing steam and hers was playing with dogs. Just before her mother died, they were going to get a dog to keep them company. Gibbs' last deployment hit them hard, so getting a puppy was a distraction.

The park was bustling with activity of kids being picked up by their parents, wrapping up sports practice. The day was nice and everything felt almost too calm. Her own natural instincts were flaring but she didn't know why. Something was making her hair stand up on her arms the way it did just before she walked into a trap. She scanned the area but no one seemed to pose a threat. No one acted out of form, but all the same she slowed her strolled and walked around the parking lot looking nonchalant, and directionless.

The park was all clear. She was getting paranoid, there was nothing wrong with tranquility. This wasn't her previous life. Good days were the norm. Harry had thrown her off. Walking back towards her scooter, she almost laughed at herself.

The sudden explosion in that blew her backwards cut the amusement. She looked up from the ground to find her scooter in flames and everyone in the area scattering for cover. The sounds of screaming made her already sensitive ears ring. She grabbed her head trying to block out all the noise.

"Miss?Miss? Are you alright?", asked a flustered older man around her father's age. Kelly was so dazed, she couldn't answer him. It had been a while since she had been almost blown up. She didn't miss it. He scooped her into his arms and pulled her up and several feet away from the blast. "Hey, Hey look at me. Let me see if there's any debris or shrapnel in your eyes."

She did as he said and he checked her to make sure she was clear, "I think you're clear."

"Police and ambulance are on the way, maybe you should wait for them you were real close to the explosion." The last thing she needed was for the police to start asking questions and realize she was a fed. There'd be an entire investigation and she didn't need the attention. Besides, if it was who she thought it was, she wouldn't the police getting in her way of blowing his kneecaps out.

"No, I'm alright. I have to find my dad, he'll be worried. I came here with him, he'll take me. Thank you, sir, for everything. You didn't have to stay and put yourself in danger like that," she said quickly finding a way off the scene. But she really was grateful. The area could've been a bombsite and he rushed in to save her.

"Would never a leave anyone behind, ma'm," he said immediately. She smiled, he was probably a veteran. She thanked him again and ran off in fake search of her father. Once she was out of sight, she wiped her face of ash and dust with the sleeves of her blazer and headed downtown. Entering the nearest alleyway, she took off her leather backpack, and fished out her bottle water. She dumped the content out into her hand and wiped it on her burning cheeks and slide down the brickwall into a sitting position.

That blast had scared her more than she wanted to admit. She went against her instincts that had told her something was off and almost got herself blown away in the process. Harry had obviously been trying to make a scene and god knows he had accomplished that. The police would be all over that place for weeks. The media would have a field day with this, but she knew without calling Amus that he wouldn't have anything on that scooter that would lead back to her or him.

"S-sorry about the blast Frost, but you would listen," Harry whined standing above her having the audacity to look apologetic.

"Harry what the hell was that? You could've killed someone!," she hissed standing up.

"Well no one did, but I'll be dead if you don't help me," he whined childishly.

"You pull something like that again, and they won't be your problem," she shoved him away and walked off grabbing her bag. She was trying to be the bigger person, walk away from confrontation. She couldn't let her anger make her do something she'd have to clean up later. She just wanted to get home and eat takeout with her dad and forget all this happened.

"Well, y-you know, maybe next time I don't get your scooter. Maybe next time, it's your father's c-car instead, huh, how bout that?"

Kelly froze where she stood. Anger management be damned. She reached for her sig with the silencer on it, and before Harry could qualify his next statement, Kelly spun around and fired off a round into his right knee.

Harry collapsed with an agonized scream that she quickly used her balled up blazer to muffle, all but shoving it down his whiny throat.

"Let's get one thing straight. I've allowed you to nearly blow me up and waste my time all within the span of a few hours. Do not confuse my generosity for weakness. I will not entertain threats against my father with nearly the same tolerance. Not even hypothetical ones."

His eyes looked at her stricken with pain and fear. He silently pleaded with her all the same.

"I have to go. You've ruined my evening enough. If you scream again, I will take this unregistered gun and pop you with a bullet between your eyes, pen a confession, and contact the local police. We understood?"

He nodded his head vigorously and she pulled her sullied jacket away. "Please, I'm begging you, I have a son," he whispered painfully.

She looked at him disgusted. It'd honestly be easier to kill him, but she was already late adn in an alleyway with a bleeding imbecile. She may as well listen.

"You got 2 minutes," she said settling beside him with the gun to his temple.

"Okay, Okay. You already know I faked dying to escape the heat. Needed a way out. But it wasn't because I'm spineless. I have son, his mom died and when I realized I was all he had I dropped my old life for him. But I needed cash, so I got a decent job with some cartel workers. Decent work, low level, and clean. Just processing inventory by the docks in Miami, you know. But then some money _I_ processed comes up missing. There's all this talk, yadda yadda, and boom. I'm suddenly accused of stealing. Wasn't me, though. I've got sticky fingers, but I swear on my father's grave I didn't touch the money. I know who did though," he ground out through the pain.

Kelly looked at him and considered his position. She knew him well enough to know when he was lying. Harry was trash, that much was undeniable, but no one deserved to go down for a crime they didn't commit especially at the mercy of the Mexican cartel. She reached into his pocket and dug out his wallet, ignoring his shouts of indignation. Opening it, she found a picture of a little boy about 4 years old. He was cute with big brown eyes and dark hair to match. He had Harry's eyes, but they were actually cute instead of beady like Harry's. The poor kid already had Harry as a father, he didn't deserve to lose another parent. No matter how unfit.

"What do you expect me to do," she asked tapping the tip of her gun against his nose.

"Prove I'm innocent. Give me somewhere safe to go until then. I already sent my son away for safekeeping."

She had her safe house Amus secured. It was off the grid and no one knew it existed. He'd be safe there until she could get a plan together.

"Yeah. Alright. I have somewhere for you to go. You'll be safe there. You got a car?"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and rested his head back against the pavement. He looked like the weight of the world have been lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you, Frost. Really you're saving my boy and I."

"Whatever, where's your car? I don't have all day." He told her where he parked and she propped him up against the brick wall of the damp alley before walking out, keys in hand to find his car. She found it around the corner just behind some hole in the wall restaurant. Harry was pushing a beat up Honda sedan these days almost as old as she was. Life off the grid must be hard.

She hopped in and pulled into the alleyway to lift him into the car, supporting his injured knee. He had created a tourniquet with her blazer to stop the bleeding while she was gone. She drove about 30 minutes outside of town and dropped him off at the cabin she had in the woods. It was small, but cozy and had internet connection. Harry plopped himself on the couch and finally allowed himself to rest a bit. "You need a doctor?," she asked absently. If he bled out here, she wouldn't have to worry about coming up with a plan. Of course she'd have to come collect the corpse at some point….

"I got it covered. You know I always covered my own injuries," he said with smile that actually looked normal. He was right. The only reason anyone kept the idiot around was due to his doctoring skills. Harry could perform heart surgery on the battlefield if he had to. He could certainly take care of himself. "Everything I need is in my bag," he said pointing to his bag she had brought in. She handed him his stuff and gave him her number. She would come check on him at some point but he seemed content to watch tv, finally at peace now that he was safe. "Call me only with emergencies. Dont leave this place, okay? I'll see what I can do on my end to figure this out," Kelly instructed as she walked towards the door. Harry had no reason to leave the safehouse. It had enough food and supplies to keep someone for about 3 months.

Kelly left his car out front and walked a safe distance away from the safe house to a nearby gas station where she called an Uber to drive her back to town.

Her father had already called twice and was probably getting ready to swing by the Quantico office to come get her. She called him back and the phone rang once before he picked up. "You better have a good reason for not picking up your phone, Kelly."

She did but she couldn't tell him. "Sorry, dad, my scooter broke down and I had to swing by a repair shop."

"You should have called. I would have come to pick you up. Where are you now?"

"In an Uber on my way to your office. I'll be there in 15 minutes or so."

"A what?"

She giggled. She should have known her dad wouldn't know what an Uber was. He'd probably flip if he knew she was essentially hitchhiking, "It's like a taxi, dad. I'll be in there in a sec."

They said their goodbyes and hung up the phone. She had been with him for less than 3 months and she was already lying to him. She didn't want him to worry about what she could handle though. She was already gonna have to balance casework _and_ finding a way to clear Harry's name. She didn't need her father to add to the mix.

The Uber stopped just outside the shopping center next to NCIS. She made the last minute detour wanting to change out of her sweaty work clothes. She was sticky and agitated after driving with Harry in his beat up Honda without A/C and she needed a change of clothes since she knew she looked like hell. Explaining why she had different clothes on would be easier than explaining why she was covered in dust looking fresh off a bomb field.

The nearest clothing store happened to be a nice little boutique. She walked in getting weird looks from the confused, but polite store employees. She quickly walked to the corner of the store and pulled off a pair of shorts, a band shirt, and some red converse off the racks and shelves and quickly paid for it. She ducked into the dressing room to change and stuffed her old clothes back into leather backpack. She looked in the mirror and realized she looked as bad as she felt. Her hair was a mess. Her former bun style had fallen out into a mess of strands and pieces of grass where her scooter hand been parked. She quickly took her bun down and brushed through her hair with her spare paddle brush and wiped the smeared makeup from her face and swiped on some moisturizer.

The girl in the mirror looked fashionably disheveled rather than outright messy. Her skin looked fresh and she had nice flush to it which came from the explosion, but no one needed to know that.

She realized she was running late again and quickly packed her bag and dashed out the door. NCIS Security waved her in and she smiled gratefully at the man at the gate. Her father wasn't going to be happy, but hopefully he would just think she was being a flighty teenager rather than hiding secrets from him. When the elevator doors opened up to let her out into the bullpen she peeked out and realized he wasn't alone at his desk.

...thought apologies were a sign of weakness," she heard a man with a Scottish accent say.

"Not between friends. Look, Duck, I have to tell you something else."

"You're not leaving again are you?, the scottish man said warily.

"No. Not again. About my..family. Kelly didn't die in that accident. She's fine actually."

"But the report-"

"Was wrong. It's a long story. One I'll tell ya someday over drinks, but she okay."

"Jethro, I don't know what to say. I'm-how long have you known?"

"She found me in Mexico. Lives with me now though. She should be here any minute. 'Spose to meet so we could go home together but she's late."

"Who else knows?"

"No one. Hasn't come up. Been busy since we got back."

Ducky knew his friend wasn't one to keep anyone up to date with his personal life. That was usually left for other to speculate about and he never clarified regardless of how off base some rumors were. He kept everything close to the vest.

"Why now? Because I would see her walk in?"

"Because I don't want there to be anymore secrets between us. I'm sorry, Duck. Should've told you years ago bout my family." Out of everyone that that found out about Jethro's family, Ducky had been the most hurt. He hadn't expressed his hurt in verbally really but had spent the last few cases making passive aggressive comments and ignoring his friend. Gibbs would never admit to how much that had actually hurt, but he left Ducky alone to take his punches. While everyone had simply accepted Gibbs leaving and returning without much explanation, Ducky rightfully expected more from him.

Ducky smiled at his friend, "There's something I should've told you sooner too. Welcome home." The two old friends shared a handshake that melted into a brotherly hug that was long overdue.

Gibbs looked up during the embrace to see Kelly smiling shyly at them from the elevator and smirked at her. Gibbs turned and whispered to Ducky, "Want you to meet someone, Duck."

Gibbs waved Kelly over she slowly walked over to the two men still in an embrace.

Gibbs pulled away and said, "This is Kelly." Ducky turned quickly to see a young girl with long brown reddish hair and blue eyes walking towards them hesitantly. Kelly smiled, not quite sure what else to do in that moment and waved shyly at the doctor, "Hello."

Ducky felt his heart warm at the sight of his friend's daughter. "It is pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear."

"And you, Dr. Mallard. I've heard so much about you."

"Only good things I hope. I expected you to be pretty from your pictures but your father failed to mentioned what a beautiful woman you are."

Kelly smiled crookedly and dipped her head bashfully at the compliment in a way that was so endearingly Jethro.

"And please call me Ducky."

"Thank you, Ducky. You are too kind."

Gibbs watched indulgently as his daughter and friend seemed charmed by each other upon first meeting. He wanted her to meet all the people that he loved.

"Duck, why don't you join us for dinner?," Gibbs suggested.

The doctor looked up surprised, "Oh, Jethro, I wouldn't want to intrude. You should spend your night with your daughter."

"No, Ducky, I insist. I must thank you for keeping him company in light of my tardiness. Dinner is my responsibility tonight anyway," Kelly said graciously. She genuinely wanted to get to know the charming man who had been such a good friend to father all these years. Additionally, if it kept her father's mind off this afternoon even better.

"My darling you are too kind. I don't want to intrude.."

"Dinner among friends is never an intrusion as long as you're willing to overlook the mess the kitchen is right now. We're getting new furniture this weekend." Kelly wished the dining set had arrived early since it would have been perfect to entertain over.

Ducky chuckled, "Oh I've been to Jethro's before for dinner. I'm more than accustomed to cowboy steaks on paper plates."

Kelly made a face at her at Gibbs at thought, "Dad!"

Gibbs rolled his eyes at his daughter and friend judging his dining habits, "Whatever. You comin' Duck?"

"If you both insist," Ducky allowed ever the gentleman.

"We do," Kelly said smiling. She loved cooking and had been looking forward to trying out a new recipe out. She had originally planned for takeout but was suddenly invigorated at the idea and making something for Ducky. Gibbs steered Kelly and Ducky out to the parking lot where Ducky followed them in his car to Gibbs and Kelly's house. Upon arrival, Kelly hopped out the car ahead of the men to begin prepping dinner for the night. She would be making Cajun Shrimp Pasta for them and wanted it to be perfect. It wouldn't take very long to make and she had the perfect Chocolate Mousse Cake from the bakery near her job to pair with dinner. Gibbs and Ducky finally sat in the living room drinking tea and beer after Kelly had turned away Ducky's polite attempts to help her prepare. She wanted the old friends to catch up on the time lost between them. She overhead Gibbs telling Ducky about Mexico and building the roof together. Gibbs allowed to Ducky to tell him the history of roof constructing and its evolution over time. He let Ducky have his moment realizing just how much he missed the chatty doctor.

Once dinner had finished and Ducky prepped the tables, he wouldn't take no for answer on this one, the trio sat down for a dinner that both men swore was the best they had in years. Gibbs often had little patience for Ducky's stories, but Kelly loved them endlessly. Especially the ones that involved her father and their adventures. Ducky skillfully edited parts that included Jenny Shepard, not knowing whether Gibbs had filled Kelly in on those parts of his life. Ducky managed to get in quite a few jabs at her father's expense which Gibbs quickly returned telling Kelly about the time Ducky pushed a French policer off a cliff for contaminating a crime scene.

"There was a lake beneath that cliff," Ducky said rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, sixty feet beneath," Gibbs quipped.

Kelly laughed at their banter that continued for the rest of the night. Kelly told Ducky of her time in Scotland and Europe, of course skirting around her reason for being there, and the two bonded of their love for his home country and he made promises to make her something in return for the lovely dinner she had made them. Kelly only knew Ducky for the night and already loved him to pieces. He reminded her of her own grandfather whom she desperately needed to check on.

"Oh, dear, look at the time. I've imposed on your evening long enough."

He hadn't at all but of course he would feel that regardless of what she said. Kelly packed him an extra plate for his mother along with a large piece of cake. Ducky thanked them both for the evening and demanded Kelly come to visit him anytime she wanted, especially after finding out her curiosity of autopsy and their shared hobby of psychological profiling. They had almost forgotten all about Gibbs when they begun picking each others brains about profiling techniques. Gibbs hadn't minded and simply watched his daughter and dear friend ramble on. He had missed Ducky and was happy that she enjoyed his company so much.

After Ducky left, Gibbs cleaned up and gathered the plates from the table and washed the dishes. Kelly kissed her father goodnight and took to the steps two at a time silently rejoicing to herself when she heard him enter the basement and begin sanding away at his boat. She needed time to start chipping away at a plan to help Harry and couldn't do that while her father was watching.

Harry had told her that he was accused of stealing roughly $5,000,000 in cartel money and that the man responsible for framing him was a close companion to his immediate boss. Felipe Rodriguez was their focus and the man who had framed Harry. According to the page long text he sent her, Rodriguez was Colombian and planning on breaking down the Mexican cartel internally in order to eliminate the competition. Rodriguez's was claiming fake relations to an old dead family friend of the boss in order to get close to the boss. Now Kelly just needed to out him and make his company turn on him to so they would eliminate him themselves.

She needed information on Rodriguez and she knew Sardinha kept eyes and ears all over Latin America. He would be able to send her a full dossier and fill her in on any information she needed.

Kelly pulled out her computer and quickly searched the docking areas in Miami looking for the exact port that Harry was most likely working in.

She phoned Sardinha and waited for him to pick up the phone.

"Oi," he said.

"Dinha."

"Meu amor," he drawled. "How are you? You don't call, you don't write. How is my heart supposed to survive such neglect?"

"Somehow I think you've managed to replace me," she giggled. Sardinha was such a ladies man she doubt her so called affection had already been replaced.

"No one can replace my one and only," he purred.

"You're so greasy. Listen, I need something from you."

"Ah, yes. It's never a simple check in with you."

"Fine, how's your Mom?," she teased. Sardinha's mom was a lovely woman but had been trying to marry off her son since he had returned thinking a wife and child would keep him in place.

"Ughh, stop. What do you need, love?"

"Everything you know about a man name Rodriguez. Felipe Rodriguez."

"Do you have any idea how many people on the continent have that name? I need smaller parameters."

"He's Colombian but probably believed to be Mexican by those don't know any better. He's cartel. I need any signs of a large amount of cash moving out of the country. He may even be storing it until the noise dies down so he can move it."She could hear him tapping away at his computer already searching for her man.

"Got it. Hasn't even been a 4 months since we escaped the hell hole. Already found yourself in some trouble?"

"Me? Nah. I've been minding my business. Your best friend Harry is the one in trouble actually," she smiled. Sardinha hated Harry more than she did. He's the one that cost him the tip of his ear.

She could hear the typing over the phone pause. "He's dead."

"You and I both know most spies are like cats, they've got nine lives."

"So you're helping him?"

" Being forced is more like it. He blew up my scooter, sold me a sob story too. Apparently he's got kid to protect."

"Ew."

"I know you don't like kids, but his son doesn't deserve this."

"No, I mean someone actually had sex with Harry."

"Just get me his file," she giggled secretly agreeing.

"Alright, I should have something for you by tomorrow."

"Obrigado, I owe you one."

"There's no debt to be paid between us. We owe each other a lifetime of favors."

Kelly hung up the phone and closed har laptop after familiarizing herself with the various ports in Miami. Rodriguez had most likely intercepted the cash during the transportation process since underground organizations never allowed cash sit on the dock overnight. She wanted to wrap this up as quickly as possible and as long Harry stayed put and allowed her to handle this, it would. She couldn't protect Harry if she was across the country trying to solve a case.

"Kels!," Gibbs called her from the basement. "Can you come down here for a sec?"

"Coming, dad," she answered coming down the stairs. She was so close. She should have just gone to bed when she had the chance.

Kelly stopped on the basement steps looking down at her father. "Yeah, dad?"

"Everything alright with your bike? What happened this afternoon?"

"Battery died on it. I've been meaning to get a new one. Finally caught up with me."

"Get it in a good shop alright?"

"Yeah, down at Carlos' near my job. Said he'd replace the battery and fix some other things I've been neglecting since Mexico," she lied smoothly.

"Wish you would have brought it here. Coulda looked at it for ya."

"I know, but the Uber I got was a Sedan not a pickup. It wouldn't have fit and wasn't worth the hassle."

"Alright, kiddo. We'll get ya somethin' more reliable this weekend."

She smiled at him, "Thanks, Dad."

Kelly turned and headed back upstairs to head to bed. Gibbs knew something was off. Her story made his gut churn and he saw the story about a scooter exploding in the park on the news. He hadn't connected her to the park incident until she claimed she was having issues with her own. It was unlike her to not let him know when she was gonna be late. She was hiding something. No doubt trying to keep him safe. None of that took the sting out of her lying straight to his face. He wasn't gonna let her fight whatever this was alone though. She wasn't alone in this world anymore. He would make sure of that.

A/N: Our girl has found herself in some heat with Papa Gibbs. We shall see how she'll wrap all this up. Let me know what you think I love reading all your comments! Reviews make my day and give me reason to go on. I love hearing from yall.

Some notes: Yes, I know Emily Prentiss didn't actually die. Should have put that in quotation in my author's note to make it clear.

Someone wanted to see Gibbs punch Morgan. I don't know how either would fare in that situation but wouldn't that be something? Lol.

Only one person has expressed some real distaste for Colonel Mann so we'll have to see what we do with her as this progresses since she's quickly approaching. How will Kelly react to seeing her father date for the first time up close?


	10. Back on my Bullshit

The high pitched shrill of her phone almost made Kelly fall out her bed. Suddenly that Advil she took to dull the ache in elbow from the blast seemed like a bad idea. Being snatched out of a medicated haze made her woozy. Her hands blindly searched for her phone that laid the floor.

"Hello?," she asked groggily.

"Meu amor? What is it 10 o'clock over there? Since when do you sleep in?"

"Since we no longer wake up to the sound of gunshots. Got the information?"

"Yeah, your boy Rodriguez is definitely Colombian cartel. The two competing heads hate each and the grudge is older than time itself. They're both family businesses though so you know how that gets. Looks like he works for the top boss in Bogota. He does alot of internal work infiltrating other drug trades throughout Latin America, he's got a good grasp on dialects so he moves around like a native. This isn't his first rodeo either. He's solid but his biggest weakness is dossier on him I'm sending you."

Her printer on her desk suddenly whirred to life and begun printing out names and pictures. "Lucky for you, someone wants him dead as much as you do and the compiled file I sent you is more than enough to expose his game. Hard to get but yours truly knows his stuff."

"Have I ever told I love you even though you like to hack my system without asking?"

He laughed, "I know it turns you on." He sobered then, "I don't have to tell you you're playing with fire getting involved at all, especially for a rat like Harry," he warned. "I don't like you doing this alone."

"I don't really have a choice. I'll keep my face and name out of it though," she promised. This was all incredibly risky and she didn't know why she was doing it at all. The more she thought about the less she knew why. She couldn't tell Sardinha that though.

" _You_ don't even know why you're doing this," he pointed out. Mostly because he already knew.

"I think my dad is calling me, I'll let you know how it goes," she said quickly and hung up.

She didn't want to have to make a trip to Miami. Her father may have swallowed her lie, but he wasn't gonna let her disappear for a few days. Not if she didn't want the police to meet her at the border before she even left the state.

She'd think of something, but for now Harry was safe as long as he kept his head down and in the safe house.

She jumped out of bed and pulled on some leggings to meet her father downstairs for breakfast.

Gibbs sat at the table waiting for Kelly to join him, coffee and newspaper in hand. The exploding scooter incident hadn't escaped the interest of local authorities but judging from what the papers had said, they didn't have any leads nor were there any personal effects on scene that would help identify the owner.

The papers didn't say anything substantial regarding the bomb, but he'd guess it was something small and remote operated. Someone had tried to kill his daughter, or at the very least scare her. But Kelly hadn't appeared shaken by the event, in fact if he hadn't seen the story, he never would have guessed anything was wrong. He wanted to confront her and demand an answer, seek out any leads himself. But his gut told him Kelly knew her attacker and had she felt threatened by them, she wouldn't have come home that, or even to his job. He was pissed at the thought of her keeping something like this from him but he knew she would just retreat further into herself if she thought he was onto her.

Kelly had described to him what she had been through because of that bastard Zetes. He knew his daughter could handle herself, but there would always be apart of him that would lash out anytime he felt she was in danger. All he could do was keep an eye on her and look for any disturbance in the underground world that would explain the incident.

He didn't have any more time to think about it once Kelly came down the stairs and smiling at him at the table.

"Morning Daddy," she chirped and hugged him.

She was keeping things from him but a piece of him melted despite the betrayal he felt every time she called him Daddy. He had missed her so much. He'd do anything to protect her now.

"Mornin' Kels."

She dug into her pancake and orange juice meant especially for Saturday's.

"What time is the furniture supposed to get here?"

Gibbs glanced at the clock over his coffee and sipped it. "Bout an hour. Finish up so we can move the table and living room stuff out to the garage."

Kelly tossed her plate and cup in the sink and started cleaning up the excess from the table. Gibbs stood and fired up the coffee maker for a refill. He was gonna need some caffeine for all this heavy lifting.

He and Kelly made quick work of the table and chairs and hauled them off to side of the house. The couch was the hardest and after almost dropping the darn thing on Gibbs foot, they got it out to the garage in one piece. There was little furniture on the main floor so moving it everything had been simple enough. Gibbs and Kelly had painted the living room with a fresh coat of white and Gibbs had lowered the high bases on the floors and restained them. The overall effect was a brighter living area that contrasted in all the best ways with dark hardwood.

Kelly looked down at the marks on her hand from the old couch that had worn away pieces of fabric leaving the wood underneath exposed. The sharp wood had nearly cut into her hands.

"Thank God that furniture store has move-in assistance."

Gibbs grunted in response and slid down the wall on the opposite of her. Her father had been quieter than usual if that were possible. But she was afraid to ask what was on his mind. Her paranoid side said he knew everything, her rational side said he had bought the story she told him and she preferred to listen to that.

The moving vans pulled in and they both headed out to prop the doors for them and get out the way.

It took about an hour but after it was all said and done they had new gorgeous chocolate L-shaped couch with decorative pillows. The coffee table had been made by her dad who hadn't liked the glass one she picked out since he'd seen too many crime scenes that involved a dead body and a shattered coffee table. Kelly thought it was because he liked to prop his feet on it, but muffled a laugh and didn't voice it at the time.

The kitchen table had been replaced with a polished white one that had black chairs. Kelly had even sprung on a new stainless steel refrigerator. The rug she had picked out had been a patterned cream color one that offset the dark floors and couch. The room needed a pop of femininity so the designer had sent over a nice faux flower arrangement made up of a few stems of delicate lavender orchids. It was perfect. Even her father had admitted that the room was nice, yet comfy. She didn't want him to be uncomfortable in the family room. She had felt more than bit if satisfaction when he plopped down comfortably and clicked on the most recent football game on the new flat screen they bought.

"Can we pick up the car now?"

Gibbs breathed a laugh of exhaustion, "You're not tired from all that?"

"No, it was only like an hour of work. C'mon Agent Gibbs what kind of suspects do you chase after?"

Heaving off the couch with a few cracking joints he mumbled, "The kind that take breaks after moving furniture."

Kelly giggled and followed out him out to the car and off to the car dealership.

"What about a Prius or a tesla? They're environmentally friendly and safe. They have charging station all over the city and its cheaper than gas?"

He smirked and said, "So you want another electric Barbie jeep to drive ?" When Kelly was 3 her father had bought her a chargeable barbie car from the Toy Store. She had driven that thing everywhere like it was a real car. When she decided one night that parents were being particularly unfair, she packed a bunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, 4 juice boxes and her favorite teddy bear and drove all the way to the front of the neighborhood. She had nearly made it off base when the military policeman at the gate stuck his stupid foot on the front of her car to stop her. He had interrogated for her name for all of 3 minutes before one of the neighbors had identified her as the Gunny's daughter. It hadn't been her first escape attempt, but after they confiscated her jeep, it was her last.

"I _loved_ that jeep. We had the best adventures together."

"Bet you did, almost set every alarm off on base with that thing."

"And I would've gotten away with it too if it weren't for that MP."

"Never told me where ya planned on goin' that night."

"Grandpa's house. He said I could come visit him anytime I wanted. He always bailed me out when I got into trouble so figured I'd go to him."

Gibbs shook his head ot able to keep the smile off his face. His father spoiled Kelly rotten and she adored him right back. Jackson and Kelly stayed in more of their fair share of trouble together when she was a kid. She spent every minute she could at the shop with him helping out around the store and charming customers. He and his father had never had a good relationship, especially once Kelly and Shannon died. They had stopped talking to each other completely but he needed to let his father know the truth or the old man shoot 'im for not telling sooner.

"Whaddya want in a car specifically, Kels?"

"I don't know. GPS, nice seats, a radio, something with good handling."

"Pretty bare minimum standards ya got there."

"I try to keep it that way knowing you're gonna get the final say even though I'm paying."

Gibbs smirked, glad she knew how this was gonna go. "Not lettin' ya put some death trap on my insurance, Kels."

"Mustangs aren't a death trap. They have airbags," she argued. They already had this conversation. When she expressed her love for mustangs her father had all but told her over his dead body would she drive on again.

"All those airbags don't mean squat with all that horsepower."

"I can handle it. You even took me to practice driving."

"A hand full of driving lessons and a rushed license doesn't buy experience."

They pulled into a used car dealership and parked between two Hummers.

"Why used?"

"Because new cars depreciate significantly in value the second you drive 'em off the lot," he said getting out the car.

"Why does the value matter as long as it runs."

He sighed, "If ya have to resell it, you're gonna want its value to hold."

"I don't care what it resells for. I'll just buy another if I really need it."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and led her by the small of her back into the building, "Remind me to teach you that money doesn't grow on trees."

"But-"

"Hey, how can I help you guys?" A tall, attractive man with glossy brown hairs asked. He couldn't have been much older than Kelly herself.

"Not really sure what I'm looking for but I need a car obviously," she laughed a bit.

The man laughed with her, "Well then you've come to the right place. We've got everything from older cars to newer ones. Even a handful of luxury ones."

"Let's narrow it to SUVs," her father said speaking up for the time. "Something with good safety ratings."

He walked them over to the other side of the store and back out to the lot, "Then I would recommend Toyota, Volvo, or Lexus. The upkeep is easy and fairly good on price. People rarely turn them in since they last so long."

Kelly looked up and saw the ones he mentioned and immediately nixed the Volvo idea. They were nice and safe, but she didn't wanna look like a soccer mom.

"The Lexus one looks nice," she said turning to her dad. He gave a resolute nod. He like this one too. It was big and had a good chunk of metal protecting around. The military wouldn't sell him a tank so this would have to do.

The man handed Kelly the keys and she hopped in the driver's side. It had black interior that looked new.

The dealer noted her awed look and smiled. "The previous owner had to leave the country and didn't wanna pay to have it shipped. It's basically brand new, doesn't even have 5,000 miles on it. It's a Lexus GX 2016. Smooth ride, great safety, and dependable."

"Dad?" She looked at her father expectantly and he smiled her, understanding she liked the car. But he would need more background to feel comfortable letting her drive it. They took it out for a test drive and Kelly let her Dad do the talking trusting his opinion completely. He grilled the salesman from top to bottom about every inch of the car. Kelly just fiddled with the radio and GPS already programming her favorite stations and fast food restaurants into the GPS hsppily oblivious to the man getting the Gibbs interrogation treatment. After the man had sweated his shirt through after Gibb's crossfire, Kelly was having her car delivered tomorrow several thousand dollars cheaper than the sticker price.

"Thanks, Dad," Kelly squealed and hugged him hard enough to cut his oxygen off. He grunted hugging her back and kissed her eyebrow nick.

"Anytime, baby girl."

The next morning, Gibbs and Kelly were seated on their new comfy sectional watching a reality show that Kelly had strong armed him into.

"Kels give me the remote. Not watching this crap," he said reaching for the remote in her hand.

She pulled it out of his reach and pouted, "Of course it's crap, and you promised."

"No, I agreed to let you pick the torture me with their whiny voice and shiny houses. Why do ya watch this crap anyway?"

She stared dazedly at the flatscreen and mumbled, "I don't know. Its like watching a trainwreck I can't look away from." Reality shows were her latest obsession and she couldn't get enough of them.

"Probably melting your dang brain cells."

"Perhaps."

Gibbs snatched the remote from her side and clicked the channel. "Daaaaadddd. Nobody wants to watch this."

"I do."

He changed the channel to some black and white old western cowboy film. "Is this what you watched during the Great Depression as a teenager?"

"Yeah. Best to distract yourself from starving to death."

Her phone shrilled and she made a mental note to change her ringtone. It was Harry calling.

"Talk to me."

"Hey, kid, look I may not need your help after all!"

'What?"

"Yeah look a friend of mine from the docks said he knew a guy that could help me out. I'm at his house now. He's gonna protect me while we straighten this out. Not that you can't, ya know, I really appreciate you though." This was all too sudden and it made her stomach get butterflies. This was a trap and of course Harry couldn't sense it. How did they know where to find him?

Kelly smiled at her dad, "Hold on, Dad it's Hotch he needs a file. I'll be right back." She headed upstairs casually not wanting her pace to tip him off.

"...Where is he now?"

"He taking a call in the other room. Said he was calling his friend over." _Crap._

"Harry send me your location right now," she hissed. "Are you at least armed?"

"Well, no it wasn't necessary he's my friend," he chirped happily.

Kelly bounded down the stairs grabbing her keys and bag from the table. "Be right back dad I need to figure some office stuff out."

Before he could ask for details she shut the door, hopped in her car, and peeled out the driveway. She couldn't tell Harry what was going on, he'd panic or not believe her and tip his friend off. He wasn't far, but even a 10 minute drive was lethal when time was something she didn't really have much of.

"I'm on my way Harry, don't tell your friend. I want to surprise him and thank him for the hospitality. He deserves a gift," she said sweetly and pressed her foot on the gas harder.

"Aww Frost that's so nice. See, you're not as frigid as everyone says."

Frost parked just a few houses down from the home Harry was in. Grabbing her sig, she ran as fast as she could towards the two story house.

CLimbing up the stairs making her footsteps as light as possible, she noticed Harry and the guy talking and the man. Frost knocked on the door and waited for him to answer. The "friend" of Harry's was a bulky guy with prison tattoos that let her know he was definitely cartel. He looked shocked when he opened the door.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

She didn't answer and pushed past him finding Harry in the living room. Harry was lounging on the couch with not a care in the world. "I always have the lowest expectations for you and somehow you always manage to still let me down", she hissed too low for the man at the door to hear.

"Look kid, I know you told me to stay put. But he can help. He was there. He says Felipe tried to do the same to him and he wanted to come join me."

"Let me ask you something, how long have you known him."

"Well not long, but-"

"You're not in a position to be trusting anybody."

The sounds of car screeching outside and yelling made them both pause and look towards the door. Harry paled, the situation finally sinking in. "We gotta go."

"Can't let you do that," The man who had lured him out of the house was now holding a gun and pointing it toward them. "Not until we get that money back."

"I didn't take anything."

"Stop lying!"

"I'm not lying."

This man was the professional fetcher and they had tasked him to hold Harry until the rest could arrive. He looked pissed and the veins in his neck protruded as he screamed back and forth with Harry. It was amazing he hadn't shot Harry yet but he was probably under orders not to. Frost allowed the two men to argue as she peeked out the window. 3 cars, 7 men. They were wildly outgunned and looked to be on their way in. They needed a fallback plan that would avoid confrontation. Harry was winding him up noticing he was hesitating. The man was so angry with Harry his tunnel vision took over and he couldn't even see Frost anymore. She whipped out her sig with the silencer and landed two shots to the side of his head.

The man fell heavily in the center of the room, just barely missing the coffee table.

"Harry check on the men outside," she ordered. She ordered as she looked around the house for something that would get them out of this.

He hopped over the body and looked out the window.

"They're about to head up the step," he said shakily. Frost found a liquor cabinet and made quick work of finding some dish rags and a lighter."What are we gonna do?"

She uncorked the bottles and stuffed the dish rags into the bottle. "Have a party, of course."

She bounded up the stairs and quickly lit the rags and shoved them in the bottles. She opened the windows. The squeak of the windows made them look up.

Harry appeared next to her and asked,"Molotov cocktails?"

She walked over to the window and started tossing them out the window, lighting the pavement on fire and catching some of the men. Harry quickly caught on and begun relighting some with her as she tossed them down at their cars. The men scattered, patting at their sleeves and pants to put out the fires. The cars men loaded back in their cars and peeled off trying to avoid the hailstorm of explosives.

"Shame they couldn't stay longer," she said actually a little upset her fun ended so soon.

Frost grabbed his arm and led him down the backstairs and out in the yard. Thankfully the neighbors had high hedges so they could remain covered making a run for her car around the block. The men were gone, but she didn't want neighbors seeing them. Harry was hobbling as fast as he could with one knee and she ended up dragging him for the final leg of the run . Once they reached the street they slowed to an easy stroll that was unassuming. Harry tried his best to hid his limp as the walked towards his car silently whimpering a bit at the aggravated sound.

"Wanna tell me why I shouldn't cap you in your other knee and wait for the cartel to pick you off when they swing back round."

"I can't give you one honestly. I'm sorry, Frost. I was an idiot."

What an understatement. The intelligence community had always thought a special brand of nepotism and dumb luck had gotten Harry the positions he held. He certainly wasn't smart enough to do it alone.

"How's your kid?"She needed to remind herself why she was doing this. Why it was she was risking her own neck and her father's wrath.

"Misses me. Wants to know when he can come home. School has already started and he misses his friends. He's scared too. He knows something is wrong."

They got in the car and drove off keeping an eye out for anyone. Frost made him lay across the backseat just in case. They hadn't seen her face so she wouldn't raise any flags if they were still in the area. She would have to solve the issue faster than planned. They knew Harry was in the area and she wasn't willing to lose sleep over his safety. The cartel would scour every corner of DC looking for him setting all kind of alarms off for the FBI and local police.

"You have the name and number for the guy that wants you dead?"

"Um, I have a contact that you can reach him at. But not his personal cell."

"That works. I'm gonna drop you off at the safe house and head back out. You leave there again, and I'm gonna assume I'm relieved of my duties, mkay?"

"Got it."

Frost dropped him off taking the longest way there to ensure she wasn't being tailed by any other cars. Once he was settled she headed out to the store for a fresh suit. She couldn't go back home without being questioned, but she did have the papers Sardinha sent over with all the incriminating evidence she would need. She tied her up in a tight bun to complete the look. Next to the clothing store was an electronics store. She would need a microphone and tape recorder for this. She hooked the wires to herself and planted the tape recorder in her bag. Now she needed Rodriguez.

"Hola?"

Frost made quick work of isolating his position on the phone using her laptop.

"Chinese Food Delivery?"

"What? I aint order no Chinese food."

Found it. 6534 Lawnley Street. The Park hotel.

"Sorry wrong number."

She hung up the phone. Cartel members never went anywhere alone. The contact Harry was most likely one of his henchmen and stayed close to his side.

As expected the Park Hotel had a bar downstairs, and that's where most drug runners who don't get their hands dirty hang until the dirty work is done. Right about now, Rodriguez had heard about their little stunt and was none too happy. He would be willing to do anything to see him hang and federal intervention would ensure he went away for a long time. Now she just had to play the ignorant FBI agent that was here to help.

Rodriguez was seated at a table with two other men, embroiled in a heated discussion.

"What do mean you backed off? What are you idiots? Boy scouts? Why didn't you shoot them?"

"Kinda hard to shoot at an upwards angle when you're getting molotovs dropped on you. We were ambushed, we had no other choice."

"Well because you cowards couldn't take on a little alcohol fire, he's probably crawled back into some hole by now. None of you will getting any sleep until I find him. I don't care if it takes a month. Find him!"

The two guys got up and left the hotel. Rodriguez was fuming and needed a body or money to show to his boss. As long as Harry was out, he could blow his cover. This wasnt his day and he needed a strong drink to calm his nerves.

Frost walked up the table and sat down in front of him.

"Felipe Rodriguez?"

He looked up at me confused and a little hostile, "What?"

I flashed my badge and he scoffed. "I don't work with feds." The cartel wasn't really afraid of federal agents in general. Taking down a whole organized crime system was almost impossible and the layers were endless. Most of the time, only the small level henchmen ever did time.

"Well maybe we can help each other. I'm looking for a dockworker of yours. Names Harry. He's been involved in some rather shady business that crosses state and country lines. Drugs, mostly coke and heroin. I thought as his employer you deserved to know what he may be using your shipping company to do. Can I get your cooperation?"

His eyebrow arched at the information. He obviously hadn't expected for us to think the drugs had come in through Harry and not a larger entity. In his file it was apparent Rodriguez thought the FBI and local officials were stupid considering the games he played to taunt and tease them. This is what earned him such a thick government file in several countries. He was good at getting away and leaving previous employers in shambles so no one was ever around to turn him in. Frost would have to use this arrogance against him.

"Absolutely. What can I do?"

"When did you last see him? We trying to close in on him and we didn't know if he had tried to make contact with a former coworker for tips? He knows we're onto him."

"Uh yeah, actually. A colleague tried to find him and he killed him, I never knew he was a murderer. Found him dead in a property of mine," he said glumly feigning regret and sadness.

"So you're the one that set him up with house to lure him out?"

"Yeah that was all me. I was just trying to do the right thing. I wanted to give him a second chance, when the authorities get involved it gets messy. Ruin his life. We like to handle our own at the company. But since he killed Pedro, it's out of my hands."

"We think he may have been selling his goods to distributors overseas. Notice any odd shipments going out that perhaps didn't seem right when you looked back at the books?"

"Now that you mention it, yes. A shipment of some lightweight cargo weighed in too heav yand we just assumed it had been labeled wrong."

"Do you happen to find out who it was shipping to?"

"Yeah, the Colombians! Insane right? I never thought it would go this far. Never knew he'd try to use my routes for such corruption."

"Yes, unfortunately it's rather common these days. Even the smaller shipping companies are vulnerable especially when they send overseas. He's been eluding us for awhile, nothing seemed to stick. I appreciate you trying to do the right thing. Unfortunately, the law must intervene."

"Yes, absolutely I understand. I hope we can end this violence and corruption together."

"We will. I promise you, I won't allow him to harm your business any longer. He's going away for a long time."

"Thank you, Special Agent Frost. You have my gratitude."

Frost and Rodriguez shook hands promising to stay in touch. Their conversation had been more than enough to craft what she needed to end this whole thing. Though Harry probably wouldn't have a job to return to.

Frost headed back to the safe house to assemble her evidence. It was only 3 o'clock. If she did all this correctly, she could be back before dinner time.

Harry was eating ice cream at the kitchen table when she got back.

"Hey, what we got?"

"Enough to make all this go away."

She quickly loaded the audio conversation on to her laptop and played it out loud. It was loud and clear, thankfully, despite being under her shirt. She started chopping and editing while Harry jus looked curiously over her shoulder trying to make sense of the conversation and her program.

"How does this help me? He just incriminating me further."

"Give me a second, I need to record some extra audio and then you'll see."

Harry shrugged and headed to the living room to watch the latest game show on television. By the time the winning family had been announced, Frost was done.

"Okay, I'm done."

Frost unplugged her headphones from the computer and allowed the audio to play out loud.

" _I'm trying to close in on the Mexican cartel. Have been for years now. I know you're not one of them and I'm willing to let you go if you help us. Can I get your cooperation?"_

" _Absolutely."_

" _I know some money has recently come up missing en route and an employee took some heat for it. A dockworker by the name of Harry. You're the one that set him up and took the missing $5,000,000?_

" _Yeah that was all me."_

" _Who do actually work for? I need the truth for record."_

" _The Colombians. I never thought it would go this far."_

" _Well I hope I you understand that we have to end this. I'm not interested in the Colombians but I need to save the innocent people in this country being harmed by further activity. Shut down their operation Miami."_

" _Yes, absolutely I understand. I hope we can end this violence and corruption together."_

Harry smiled and felt a weight lift from his shoulder. This would work.

"It's a little scratchy, and slightly choppy in some parts but I tried to make the audio as smooth as possible. The slight chops might actually make it sound more real."

"I've seen authentic stuff sound a lot worse."

"Thanks. Seems the whole group is staying at The Park. I'm sending over a copy to a worker I bribed to slip it in with his dinner tonight."

"A quick and clean leak? I love it."

"I'm gonna make sure it all plays out okay, but I'll text you when you're in the clear. You can probably leave tonight."

"Thanks, Frost. Really. How can I pay you back?"

"By never contacting me again."

"I can do that."

The leak had been dropped and according to the errand boy, and there was commotion upstairs while Rodriguez sat unaware at the bar drinking to his success. She saw the cartel come outside dressed in dark clothes from across the street where she was parked out of sight. Someone made a call and Rodriguez came outside looking happier than he had last time. Their conversation had given him a sense of security and he clearly thought he was in the clear. The group remained stock still as he greeted them energetically, not picking up on the overall tense mood. Suddenly an older man made a gesture with his fingers and Rodriguez was grabbed and stuffed into the open trunk of the awaiting tagless sedan. Frost knew that procedure. They weren't even gonna waste time questioning him or even let him explain himself. Crime organizations didn't believe in loose ends and tied up anything and anyone that even looked slightly unloyal. Better to safe than sorry. Of course, the dossier copies she had slipped under the boss' soup probably removed any mercy that flickered in his heart. She texted Harry letting him know he was good to go to the airport and get his son. She loved a happy ending.

It was officially 4:30pm and she was free to go home for dinner. It was definitely a take out kind of night. Walking back in her house she threw her bag down on the couch. She was exhausted and her head hurt. The house was oddly quiet and the lights were off. Where would her father had gone? He wasn't buying new wood or anything, they had plenty.

"Dad?" She said making sure he was actually gone.

"Yeah?" A voice answered from behind her. She jumped out of her skin.

"Jesus, Dad. How'd you sneak up on me?"

"Used to do it for a living."

She struggled to control her breathing, "Why are you sitting in the dark?"

"Wasn't. Just got home."

"Where were you?''

"Oh you know. Around town. Been all over this city honestly."

She furrowed her brows, "You get a case or something?''

"Mmm no, but you did. Didn't know the BAU worked cartel crimes."

Her blood ran cold. He knew, how did he know?

"You know, Kelly, I wondered what it was you were keeping from me. What was so serious that you had to lie about to my face. Several times in fact."

She stayed quiet. Even in the dimmed room, she could see the ice in his eyes that let her know that no excuse would be good enough.

"Wasn't so much as what you did. But that you had lied about it. Taught you better than that. I don't know what you learned at that damned school but sneaking around isnt gonna fly with me."

"I can explain-"

"Oh I want you to. Explain to me why I had to find out today that I can't trust you. Explain to me why I've spent the past couple night combing through concealed government files at night to find out what you should have told me yourself. Do you have any idea how what kind of danger you were in? Any concept at all of how bad this coulda gotten?"

"Yes, I do. I know that and I was careful."

"Throwing glass bombs out of a window and killing someone is careful? Abusing your position to act on your own volition is careful?"

"Why does any of that matter if it saves an innocent man and his child from some sick organization? Does the means not justify the end?"

"No! _You're_ a child, Kelly. You shouldn't be doing any of that. Just because ya got the result you wanted it doesn't absolve you of how reckless and irresponsible you were."

"I'm not a child! This is what I do and have done for years! I wasn't worried because I knew what I was doing."

Gibbs hovered over Kelly as his eyes took on a darker hue, "I don't know who you think you're raising your voice at but I would put a cap on it before you dig yourself in a deeper hole."

"So you can yell but I can't? You're accusing me without knowing the details?"

"You're not a spy anymore, Kelly. You need to stay within the parameter of the law. What you did today would have you locked up."

"What are you gonna arrest me now?"

"You should be arrested Kelly. For every little stunt you pulled. Give me your car keys. You obviously can't be trusted with them." She gaped at him. He couldn't do this. It was _her_ car she bought with _her_ money.

"You can't-"

He glared at her,"You really don't know when to stop do you?"

Kelly was pissed. She wasn't a child and didn't care to be treated like one. She had done far worse things all by herself. This was easier than running errands. It was simple. She knew what she was doing. She wasn't an idiot, but he was treating as if she was just some regular teenager.

"No," she said. "I don't have to, and wont."

Gibbs' eyes flared at her rebellion. "Kelly, I will not tolerate-"

"Then don't." She all but yelled and grabbed her things and slamming the front door behind her leaving Gibbs stunned as he listened to her car screech out of the driveway and down the road.


	11. Wheels Up

This bed sucked. The room smelled like boys and sweat and blood. Of course Harry hadn't cleaned up after himself.

I pulled the wax melter out from out of the closet and chose the one that read Forest Spice and plugged it in to chase out the smell. My phone caught my eye laying on the coffee table and an idea clicked in my head followed by a sense of dread. I grabbed the phone sat down with a screwdriver. My hands shook at what I might find. There was no way, he wouldn't do something like that. He wouldn't even consider it, he's not good enough with technology. But lo and behold, there it was.

My father had placed a bug in my phone nestled just beneath the battery. This particular model I had seen before. It was easily assembled with pieces from your local tech shop. The darn thing even had call forwarding that would allow him to listen in on any calls I received. I threw the phone across the room, pissed. It was an old trick and rather simple to implement and worked every time. Even for someone that damn well should've known better. I knew I hadn't been tailed.I had checked to make sure I wasn't being followed. But he didn't have to tail me if he knew where I was all the time, knew what calls I was taking. My mind raced thinking about how much he had heard. When was the chip installed? Did he know where I was now? My paranoia spiked. The safe house wasn't safe anymore if that was the case.

The offending chip in my hand glinted mockingly in my hand. I shouldn't have let my guard down. I didn't know I wasnt safe at home, didn't know he would cross this line. I felt one upped and I hated it. There was something so invasive about being tracked, so smug in essence that made me want to explode. I had left my things around my house and left my phone open to be tampered with. Throwing it on the table, grabbed the hammer from the tool bag and dented the table smashing it to pieces making sure any functionality would be destroyed. How dare he? I couldn't trust him if he was going to do something so underhanded. I had lied to him, I had hid things about my whereabouts that, in theory, I could see where he would be upset. But my anger clouded all those things, he had snatched away the safety I felt at home and replaced it with betrayal. I was so disgusted.

The first and last time someone had managed to bug my phone had been years ago and I had nearly been killed because of it. Something so stupid and small had led me into a house that was rigged to blow, all because I didn't know to look for tracking devices. I had barely escaped and had a nasty case of smoke inhalation afterwards. But I had survived learning that lesson the hard way. I could almost smell the smoke that surrounded me that day.I could feel the sting of my cheek from Zetes backhanding me for being so _stupid, so incompetent._ I didn't fail missions, but had just barely managed to recover that one after extensive backpedaling and regrouping.

I ran to the sink and splashed cool water on my face. My face burned with anger, I could feel myself shaking at the memory. Closing my eyes and taking deep breaths, I tried to calm the nausea swirling in my stomach. I needed sleep, I needed to time to cool down. I was stuck in this stupid cabin until whenever since I had stormed out of father's house. I grabbed the extra bedding from the closet and curled up to sleep on the couch after flicking all the lights out around the house. The bed smelled too much like Harry to bear, I was already pissed and aggravated, no need to exacerbate my condition by forcing myself to fester in that room that stank of unwashed man. I would clean the sheets tomorrow. I would get a new phone and sim card before work. The couch was comfy, but it wasn't my bed. The house was no longer safe, and I felt empty. Like sleeping in a stranger's house. I bit my lip not allowing myself to admit I hated being alone these days. I hated the isolation. I bit my lip not allowing myself to admit I missed him.

The silence was deafening. I felt like I would go mad or start hearing things that weren't there. I pulled out my phone and played some gentle rain noises to cut the heavy silence. Listening to the audio of gentle pattering made me feel safer and calmer, but it wasn't the same. It was comforting but it didn't give me the comfort that surrounded me when I felt my father came into my room late at night to check on me every night. Nothing was as securing as feeling him place another blanket on me at night and kiss my forehead and rub my hair. I could feel the tears in my eyes threaten to escape my closed lids. I squeezed them shut, praying for some escape from the conflicting emotions that made me want to scream and run home. But I wouldn't do that. He had crossed a line. I wasn't going back. I could handle this. I just had to stop being so freaking _soft._ I would be fine, I had been through too much to allow some argument be my breaking point.

My alarm clock blared just as I was getting some sleep. I hadn't slept all night, and now I had to go to work and stare down some file all day. I quickly got up, showered, and dressed. I had spare clothes in my cabin and a go-bag in my car so I would be fine for the day. If I needed anything else, I would just go shopping again. I couldn't stomach anything so I skipped breakfast and just headed into the Apple store to get a new phone and then straight to the office praying to day would go by quickly. Walking through the doors, the buzz of energy in the air told me I would have more in store for me than just paper pushing.

Garcia stood staring at the far wall in the office staring at the wall of fallen FBI agents looking rather dejected. The portrait of the Emily Prentiss smiled back at her. I knew they were close but friends or not, losing a team member was always hard. Especially considering the way she went down.

"Everyone in the conference room in 5," ordered Hotch as he breezed past us all and headed up the stairs.

Knew it.

The conference room was large room with a round table and large screen tv inside. I sat down in the chair closest to the door while everyone else. Garcia briefed us all on the new case once we were all seated. They were a series of murders in Portland, Oregon. The first victim was a DJ at a popular nightclub. His death appeared to be a run of the mill mugging case since his wallet, laptop, and cellphone were stolen after he was bludgeoned to death with a pipe. The next victim was a home invasion murder of a 40 year old nurse who was stabbed to death over 40 times with 8 separate weapons of opportunity. That particular one seemed incredibly erratic which was typical for group crimes. Mostly like about 4 people involved. But that was overkill for such an easily overpowered woman.

"Pack mentality discards all sense of organization but even with that considered, 8 weapons are excessive,"Rossi pointed out.

"Portland, Oregon isn't exactly a town known for gang activity," I pointed out. Must be a group of young vigilantes looking for trouble and quick money."

"We're going to find out. Wheels up in 10," Hotch instructed as we all stood and headed out.

Amus was right. The jet was nice and definitely better than flying everywhere commercial. There was seating area of about 4 plush seats around a table. The seating along each wall with a couch nestled in between provided extra space, but the circled seating made for a central discussion area much like the conference room. Reid settled next to Rossi just outside the meeting circle fiddling with a map and some papers. Rossi sat on the outer chair of the circle. Instinctively, I headed for a seat that would place me across from the group, but Hotch motioned for me to sit in the window seat diagonal to Rossi. I appreciated him trying to include me but being trapped in small areas with bodies was a touch out of my comfort zone. I slid in swallowing the feeling of discomfort while Morgan unexpectedly settled beside me. We didn't spare a glance towards each other and instead focused on the file in hand, while Hotch remained standing.

"It may seem like overkill, but if we're dealing with a group of kids that are trying to prove themselves or their dominance then this lines up. The home invasion instance reads like a crime of passion. Unless they're projecting their issues upon those that represent the real target," I said.

"And until they get their real target, they'll continue in this manner," Hotch said in his usual low tone.

"These unsubs are night owls, stalking and killing other night owls," Rossi observed from across the table.

"And they're also disorganized. In one, they subdue their victim with hitting him with a pipe found on the scene. But on the other, they used a knife followed by 7 other household items," Reid stated.

"Including a ceramic cat and a door stopper. All this to steal, what, a few hundred dollars of possessions. Doesn't make sense," Morgan said.

"Based on my geographic profile's algorithm, the unsubs either live or work in this area," Reid laid out the map in with two overlapping circles that indicated the area they were most comfortable with and, thus, more likely to strike in.

"Frost, you'll come with Rossi and I to the crime scene. Morgan, interview the clerk at the grocery store and see if they can give you a description of the group, any details on their behavior, or if the victim interacted with them to some degree. Reid head down to the police station and get settled. Try to narrow down specific areas and neighborhoods that are vulnerable to the next attack."

Reid continued to scratch away of the geographics of the town, while Morgan placed his headphones on and closed his eyes. Hotch settled into on the the swiveling captain chairs across from Morgan studying the file further, while Ross just seemed to stare off into the distance trading ideas with Reid every now and then.

We wouldn't know more until we got there so I just pulled out my phone and started reprogramming it. I was still sleepy but not enough to fall asleep in front of a group of people I didn't know. I needed to keep my hands busy to keep me awake. My elbow acted on the table acted and a barrier between Morgan and I. My hair draped over me giving me some semblance of being alone. For the rest of the ride I entertained myself with Angry Birds and the Sims game on my phone.

We landed about 6 hours later and I was more exhausted than before. My butt was numb and I had gotten eye strain from playing my game. I followed Hotch and Rossi to the SUV and headed to the crime scene to gather what we could about the unsub.

"Perhaps you'll be able to see something we missed," the woman said already sounding worn out from the case. One of the local detectives had met us at the crime scene and guided us into the house to try and give us a chance to re-inspect the house . Everything was scattered about but I noticed several more valuable items were missing.

"The victim died after the second stab wound because they hit an artery, why inflict 38 more?," Rossi asked. The kitchen had been where the body was discovered. She laid here, alone for hours before a neighbor noticed her through the window.

"Groups rationalize their own violent behavior because everyone else is involved. Makes them feel safe in their own violent rage," Hotch said, thinking out loud more than anything.

"Like Manson or the Genocide in Darfur."

"They get a high from killing. "

"But that only goes on as long the victim continues to struggle. That's not what happened here."

I was only half listening to their discussion. The footprints left by the group tracking blood around the house seemed odd. Too similar and didn't change in pattern or smear the way a group's would.

"What if we're looking for a single unsub rather than several?" I asked still looking down at the tracks. There was no way this was a team.

Hotch and Rossi and looked at me confused. "Elaborate."

"Like look around the tv, the desktop, the bicycle outside is still here. A group would have taken all of that in no time. But one person would have taken what they could carry. The random stuff they did take wasn't pawnable enough cash in."

"What if they ran out of time?," Hotch asked. "After the killing someone noticed the noise and called the police."

"It's not busy neighborhood though, and there weren't any noise complaints or witnesses," Rossi pointed out.

"Look at the footsteps on the ground," I said getting their attention again. "They're the same shoe and size. Unless this disorganized group isn't all that erratic and all have the same shoe size and thought to do something hyper organized like coordinate footwear, maybe it's one really unstable person. A single unsub would also explain why there weren't any witnesses. There aren't any signs of forced entry so I'm guessing he picked the locked or walked in right after her when it was still unlocked or while she unloaded groceries. He had to be exhausted after stabbing her so many times and just grabbed whatever was convenient."

Hotch nodded his head and texted Morgan the update in information. Rossi just looked at me and arched his brow, "Not bad, kid."

Rossi didn't seem like the type to dole out compliments much and from the way he looked at me, I could tell it had been done reluctantly.

We were walking out the house when Hotch's phone rang. He put the phone on speaker for us all to hear, "Morgan."

"Yeah, Hotch. You were right, he was by himself. Clerk at the store said he was acting strange like he was being followed."

"Reid was told by one of the detectives that the first victim was killed in area known for high drug use," Hotch pointed out. "If he was using something like PCP that would explain the erratic behavior and random things taken from the house."

"And the overkill on the victims," Morgan said over the line. Hotch merged the calls to include Garcia who couldn't find any of the stolen items the market. She thought he may be bartering with them for drugs instead.

We spent the night in the precinct gathering what evidence we knew about the suspect. Despite three killings, it was hard to flush out a profile. There were still so many unanswered questions. The victimology didn't have many connections and it seemed to be crime of opportunity which was common if the goal was simple robbery and adrenaline high.

"So what do we tell the public? We got nothin' here," huffed one of the local officers. We had just run over the findings and they weren't promising so far. I understood his frustration, there was no target group, nothing we could really warn people against. None of us voiced it aloud, but we all knew we wouldn't know anything until he killed again. There was always one instance, one crime, one mistake, that gave us an edge. Something that would give us something tangible to go on.

"You can caution the public to remain vigilant during night hours. The unsub is the most comfortable at night," Hotch said calmly. "I would advise you to patrol these areas," he said gesturing to the map Reid had marked on that narrowed in his comfort zone.

The cop nodded and left us to instruct the officers on their routes for the night.

"Hotch," Morgan said lowly, "I'm with him. We're all gonna go to sleep tonight knowing some innocent, unknown person is gonna get killed in the next day or two."

"That's the drawback to this job," Rossi said absently looking out the window. "Knowing you can't do anything to stop the next kill."

We went back to the hotel anticipating the worst. I wasn't discouraged, despite knowing something awful would happen within the next couple of days. I plopped down on the cushy bed having thrown my go-bag in the chair against the wall. I looked at my phone seeing several missed calls from my father. I knew he was looking for me, I knew he was pissed beyond measure at this point. He had called me about an hour after I stormed out the night we fought. I simply placed him on do not disturb too angry to have a conversation. Now, I knew that had been a mistake. He wasn't gonna happy when I saw him. I realized I never thought out how long I planned on exiling myself to that god awful safe house.

What if he didn't want to see me again after this? Though I had been too mad to see it then, I knew I crossed a major line. I had stepped out of bounds and was leaving him hanging not knowing what I was up to. I don't even know if he knew I was out on a case. I could only imagine how furious he was with me for disobeying him. I was suddenly grateful for the miles between us at the moment. I couldn't call him back now. That would only distract me. So I decided to deal with the way I did with most unpleasant things, ignored it and pretended it didn't exist.

The next night, the killer struck again in a similar manner around the same time. The fact that he acted again so quickly, two kills within 24 hours, showed signs of acceleration. Whatever was pushing him forward was making him more frustrated and it started to show in the killings. The postmortem stabbing was upping in numbers. His latest crime scene was an apartment building within the comfort zone.

"If he's on PCP, he'd used every muscle he had. He'd strangle, kick, bludgeon, anything to blow off the pent up energy," Rossi said. He was right. Despite the brute force exhibited on the bodies it was still too focused on one method to be the result of PCP use.

"You thinking this is the result of another drug altogether?," Hotch asked. Before he could answered Morgan spoke.

"You guys hear that?," Morgan asked. We sat silently and looked up at the sound of muffled footsteps coming from above us.

"Frost, you and Morgan go interview the tenant downstairs. See if they heard anything," Hotch instructed.

Morgan and I shared a look, but headed out the door to go downstairs without a word. A blonde older woman answered the door looking wide eyed and too innocent to be surrounded by such violence.

"Hello ma'am. We're Special Agents Morgan and Frost from the FBI, just had a few questions about what transpired last night. Are you aware of what occured upstairs?"

"Oh yes. Just awful isn't? I've been in this building 27 years. The worst incident we ever had was when Benjamin Hadley, up in 402, found out his wife was sleeping with the cleaner guy and shot him in the groin," she recounted in a soft spoken almost childlike tone.

I almost forgot the seriousness of the situation and laughed out loud. Morgan just looked at her and changed the subject.

"M'am when did you hear the screaming?"

"Oh it was late around 3:30?"

"Then you must have heard the unsub. According to the ME, Joe died around 2:45."

"The w-what?"

"Our suspect, ma'am", he clarified gently.

"Ohhh.."

"Ma'am, did you happen to hear what the suspect was yelling?," I asked finally speaking up.

"He said 'I was just kid then. I don't want to kill anymore.'" She hadn't heard a second voice yelling back and she assumed he was having a phone conversation which further cemented my single suspect theory. We thanked her and left.

"PCP hallucinations are terrifying, they distort reality and make you lose a sense of self but they don't play back childhood trauma to torture you with. Sounds like a severe mental illness he developed as a result of a traumatic event he can't come to terms with." PTSD wasn't the only condition that developed after a devastating events. The human mind had numerous ways of protecting itself in the event of something too distressing to process.

"Hallucinations from mental illnesses aren't as violent."

"He's in his twenties and he seems disturbed in the grocery store. He's in the right age bracket for schizophrenia to develop."

"So what if the voices in his head are telling him to kill or blaming him for something?"

"That would explain the amount of stab wounds on each victim and the screaming the neighbor sheard. It's not about them struggling, or even the victims themselves. He's trying to escape something by killing and it isn't working."

"If that's the case, then there's no end in sight for him. He'll stop when we catch him."

Once we returned to the precinct we delivered the comprehensive profile the police officers. We took turns adding in bits of information that would be helpful to his identifying him. A white male in his mid to late twenties with paranoid schizophrenia experiencing hallucinations that would encourage him to kill.

"A recent stressor would have made these kills start, though he was probably trying to resist it. He spends all day trying to avoid temptation, but eventually loses out by nightfall. These urges will persist and the homicides won't stop until he is captured," Morgan stated.

While the officers were asking questions, I noticed Reid seemed to be almost out of it, like something about the case bothered him. But not in the normal way, almost like everything was hitting too close to home. He suddenly stood and rushed off to the bathroom. I stood and started to follow him when Morgan cut in front of me instead, gave me a once over out of the corner of his eye, and followed after Reid.

I didn't expect that. The moment only lasted a second and no one seemed to notice the tense exchange, except for Rossi who regarded me silently and gestured me back over to the group. We had been fine this morning, talked civilly and even came to a profile defining conclusion together. He thought I was competent enough, but wasn't about to let me see the other side of the team. I shrugged internally. That was fine with me, I didn't get paid to be a shoulder to cry on anyway. We had a case to solve.

We ended up calling it night after delivering the profile. The local officers would take over the night shift patrolling the designated areas looking for anything suspicious or anyone strolling aimlessly looking disturbed. Even though our unsub was a murderer, he needed help too. He was being tortured in his own mind and I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Situations like these were always kind of gray and understanding these people meant understanding that they themselves were victims too.

I sat in my room just decompressing from the day with music and my nightly skin care routine after a shower. Being in and out of crimes scenes all day made me feel dirty and tense. The smell of eucalyptus and mint tingling my pores calmed me enough to be ready to sleep.

The hotel we were in was nice and, thankfully, everyone had rooms to call their own. Some gentle chattering of familiar voices from outside caught my attention and I walked over to the window in my pyjamas to look outside. I shifted the soft curtains and looked down from the open window to see the team in more casual clothes heading out of the hotel. They looked more relaxed, than they had earlier today and from the bits of their conversation I could make out, they seemed to be heading out to eat.

A weird feeling settled in the pit of my stomach and made a lump form in my throat. I couldn't quite place it, but it was foreign and made me feel alone. My phone sat on the dresser almost glaring at me. I ignored the urge to call home and closed the curtain. Everything was easier when I was busy, distracted with work. It was kind of early to sleep, but I didn't have much of a choice. I settled on the bed clicked on my computer, and found a movie on netflix to watch until I fell asleep.

The next day brought a new kill that Reid and Morgan had checked out. We had determined earlier in the day, based on the items purchased at the grocery store, that the unsub had come from a religious background. There was salt and purified water churches often used to pray over and ward off demons. He had tried giving himself an exorcism to rid himself of his "demons" but hadn't been successful. Reid had narrowed the local churches in the area and found a priest that had seen our unsub and had turned him down for an exorcism. The church had taken a step back in recent decades from trying to alleviate mental torture and had begun turning them over to medical professionals. He had probably had one done before when he was kid and found some relief from it, and was now lashing out now being shut out from the only outlet he knew. I wasn't surprised he killed again so soon. His frustration would only mount. That in combination with his hallucinations would leave him in need of release. He had killed an old woman and laid beside her after the murder, sleeping at her side until he woke up and left. She was so much older than the others. This was the kill that mattered. She meant something to him, or represented the person that did. The overkill left him exhausted.

This time he had managed almost 80 stabs. It became apparent then that his only release from his hallucinations was sleep. Our unsub being an insomniac would further explain the desperation. Insomnia would make his hallucinations torturously clear. His hallucinations wouldn't let him sleep until he killed. He had to exhaust himself to fall asleep naturally.

We all sat in the break room of the precinct waiting for Garcia to give us more information on the unsub. It was only afternoon so it was a safe guess to place him at home right now. If we could find him there we could prevent yet another victim.

"I looked at Schizophrenics that have been recently arrested in that 40 mile radius and cross checked it with it ones that have gone to local pharmacies to get their medication. Like Thorazine and Prolixin," Garcia explained over the speaker phone. She was trying to find a way to connect the medications used to the local pharmacy within the comfort zone of our unsub.

"Anyone go in for sleeping medication as well?," Hotch asked.

"Yes. Ben Foster . He has a prescription for Thorazine and Ambien."

"The stolen items are probably used to pay for his medication. There's no way he's holding down a steady job," Rossi said.

"Background?"

"He moved to Portland three years ago. Uh, month ago he was in an apartment fire for which he received sleeping medication for…. Oh my...when he was 10 he was questioned during an investigation about a fire that killed 3 people," she said.

"Could be apart of the homicidal triad," Morgan pointed out.

She continued, "Turns out 2 months before, his mom had a local minister perform a exorcism. The three people that were killed in the fire helped perform his exorcism."

"Was he charged?"

"No, he was acquitted in Juvenile Court."

"Got an address?"

"2627 Halden Way."

With that we stood and headed out the door. Hotch passed the bulletproof vests from the trunk of the SUV before getting in and speeding off without the sirens.

Hotch warned us as he weaved in and out of traffic and warned, "Ben is going to run. Despite wanting to escape his hallucinations he's not going to come easy. We'll split up to cover ground and case him in."

We pulled up outside his house and headed for the doors and sides of the house. Morgan and I ran to the side of the house just in time to see Ben foster run outside and hop over his back porch railing and run off towards the backyard of his neighbors' home.

"He's out back!," Morgan yelled to the others kicking in the metal fence. Morgan and I ran after Ben but kept to the sidewalk parallel to him to keep his trail in sight. He was hopping another 6ft metal fence blocking from another section of the neighborhood, but the barrier of a 8ft foot metal chained fence kept Morgan from being able to advance on him. He shook the fence frustrated looking for another way around it. If we lost him now there was no telling when the next open fence along the sidewalk would allow our paths to cross again. I ran up behind him and hopped up on the tall, green barrier with ease straddling on the top.

"Put your foot on the fence and grab my hand."

He looked like he wanted object, but thought better of it and did what I asked. I grabbed his forearm pulled him up halfway and flipped my 120 pounds of body weight to flip he and I over the barrier. Morgan was agile enough to land on his feet with me without much issue. We still had him in sight and chased after him. Morgan climbed the second fence while I got a running start, put my arm on the bar and leaped over to the other side.

We lost sight of him around a corner that was lined with houses. He must have found an unlocked door and nipped in for cover to avoid us. The whole neighborhood was family friendly, toys and bikes littered some of the yard and I prayed he wouldn't harm any kids if they got in his way. They weren't his usual targets.

"Hotch lost visual but we have him narrowed down to Glen Street. He couldn't have gotten far," Morgan said into his shirt mic.

The other agents met us on the block and started stalking up and down the street looking for any signs of disturbances that would hint us of his presence. Everything seemed too calm and the few people on the street walking around were being interviewed, but so far no had seen anything. I walked alone surveilling the windows. It was middle of the day, school would have been out by now so the chances that he had run into an occupied house were higher.

I caught a shifting of one of the drapes closing in my peripheral vision and stopped. Those drapes had been open a second ago.

"I might have something at 218," I said into the microphone in my sleeve and went to round the corner and wait for the others.

The team met me quietly at the side of the house. Hotch and Reid entered the house from one of the back windows, while Morgan and I entered from the kitchen window careful not to alert him of us closing in.

...There's noone there," a young female whimpered

"No, he's right there!" Ben cried obviously gesturing to his hallucinations that he didn't realize now one could see. We moved in quietly and surrounded him.

Hotch jumped into his line of vision first. "Ben, drop the knife," Hotch ordered with his gun drawn.

"Ben, we're not gonna shoot you but we do need you to put down the knife, okay? Where are the other people in this room, Ben?," Reid said gently. He was trying to earn Ben's trust by first sympathizing with him.

"They're right there, you see 'em?," He pointed with his knife shakily on the verge of tears.

"Were they there for the exorcism?," he asked.

"Mhmm," he said weakly, cowering behind the children he held hostage. "I didn't kill them though I didn't do it...I'm not lying!" He screamed the last part at one of his hallucinations looking just past Reid. I kept my gun close and aimed at his non vital areas. I wanted to subdue him should the needs arise, not kill him.

"They're dead and they can't hurt you anymore."

"Yeah, they can."

"No, they can't. Your mind is playing tricks on you, Ben." He seemed to argue with his hallucinations nonsensically before finally admitting to killing them. Morgan tried to placate him as well by promising to get him help but he didn't seem to be hearing him.

"The only way you can help me is to kill me."

"That's not true, Ben. Put that knife down and I'll get you some help. You'll be okay," Morgan urged.

He seemed to consider this for a moment looking somewhat hopeful, but something told me this wasn't gonna end quietly. "Are you sure that will work?"

"Yes, I am sure."

"Okay," he looked down at the kids and let them run away from him . I led them out the door, still facing Ben making sure they would make it out okay. The door shut behind them and Ben advanced forward with knife towards Reid. Before he could reach him I fired a shot into his shoulder.

"We need an ambulance," Reid said into his microphone that connected him to Rossi outside.

It was past midnight once we landed and shuttled off to our respective cars. The plane ride back and had been quiet and subdued in the aftermath of Foster's arrest. Ben Foster had survived and would be admitted to a medical facility for the help he so desperately needed. It wasn't exactly justice for the victims but it would take him off the streets indefinitely and Ben would get the help he needed.

Getting back into my car and shutting the door, I wasn't exactly in the mood to head back to the safe house. I didn't exactly have a plethora of options laid out before me and my pride was no longer the issue. I had lost all that on the plane ride back to D.C.. I knew I had been out of line. And while I felt like I still had some reasonable ground to stand on of being right, I was willing to just call myself wrong if it meant my father would talk to me again after all this.

I laid my head on the steering wheel considering my options. He'd still be up now if he wasn't on a case. He was usually easier to talk to once he had relaxed and had his nightly bourbon. But I also wasn't used to dealing with an angry parent. Sure I had gotten in trouble before, but never had I raised my voice or actually challenged him before. Eight years had made quite the difference in his response to my antics and unlike most teenagers, and I didn't know my father well enough to gauge his response beforehand.

Tobias was tired and too old to be doing this. He had his own teenager to worry about and while she was safely tucked away at home in her room actually respecting _his_ authority, he was at headquarters past midnight tracking down the daughter of Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He had been waiting for the confirmation that the team had landed to confront Kelly and bring her home to the father that had been on his case since she left for Oregon 4 days ago. The old bastard hadn't had any peace and refused to let Tobias have any either until he knew his daughter was back on the east coast again. Tobias had spent the last 2 hours sitting in his car waiting for her to come back to the parking lot. Gibbs had been caught up in some case all day and had placed Fornell, on one of his few nights off, on babysitting duty to his stubborn daughter.

He watched what had to be the girl in question walk out into the parking lot and head for her car. He approached her from the back so she wouldn't see him coming, only to find her head down and her hair covering her face. He rolled his eyes and tapped harshly on the window to get her attention.

The girl in the car lifted her head slowly and looked him at him blankly She didn't really look like her father, he noted absently. She continued to stare at him with a quirked eyebrow that clearly indicated she wasn't at all threatened by being approached in an empty parking lot late at night by some strange man. He sighed exasperated and motioned for her to roll down her window so they could get this over with. She rolled her eyes annoyed, but did as he asked. _Teenagers._

"Kelly, right?"

Kelly shrugged in a small, noncommitted manner and waited for the balding man to continue.

"You're coming with me," he said flashing his badge. She scoffed at him, actually scoffed at him and started to roll her window up again with a smirk that _did_ make her look like her dad, dismissing him completely.

"Get out of the car or I'm coming in." Now she just looked amused, looking him up and down condescendingly no doubt knowing she had the upper hand if it came down to a fight.

"Your father is looking for you. You can either come with me now, or I can let your father come and make a scene when he gets back from his case."

Kelly was a bit taken aback by that. Her father was looking for her? She didn't think he'd bother with her after what happened.

Her window came back down farther and she asked,"Who are you? You his friend or something?"

Kelly remembered her father mentioning vaguely that another man had married his ex-wife and worked for the FBI back when she asked about the case he had left Mexico for for a second time.

She hadn't gotten the impression that they were friends.

"Friends is far too affectionate a tone for Jethro. Right now he's my problem. Unlock the doors."

Kelly did as he asked and watched him round the car and slide into the passenger side. "Alright, let's go. The faster we get you home, the faster I can go back to bed."

Kelly cranked the car obediently and drove out of the parking lot. She wanted a reason to come home and now she had it. Even if meant sitting in car with a man possibly grumpier than her father.

The streets of D.C. were quieter in the late hour. The streets were emptier than usual and the heat of the night seemed to swallow up sound muting the world around them. Tobias leaned back into the seats that were a quite a bit too plush for a teenager's first car. Certainly nicer than anything he had owned around her age, or even now.

"I'm sorry you had to stay up so late, just to come get me," Kelly apologized quietly breaking the peaceful calm in the car.

Tobias looked over at her a bit surprised at her consideration of him. After listening to Jethro fuss about whatever fight they had had he expected her to be just as combative and unapologetic as her father often was. Tobias had laughed at the time knowing the old bastard had probably just met his match in his daughter and didn't like it. Must've gotten her manners from Jethro's first wife.

"Yes, well, it was the least I could do after what Jethro did for my Emily," Tobias awkwardly. That wasn't true. He knew he still would have done it even if Emily hadn't been in danger this past summer. Though neither would ever admit it, even under severe torture, Tobias and Jethro were good friends and they cared deeply about one another. Tobias had done a lot of kicking and screaming, but he was happy to help Jethro. He knew how much Kelly meant to him and knew he'd have driven everyone else just as crazy had he and Emily been in the same situation.

The pair soon pulled up to the house to find the charger in the driveway and the lights in the living room on. He was waiting for them.

Tobias noticed Kelly looking up the house with trepidation not wanting to move from the safety of the car to face whatever storm laid inside for her. Tobias couldn't blame her, Jethro was a SOB to deal with on his best days. He didn't want to imagine the hell he could unleash upon his own kid without the restrictions of the federal government's ban on cruel and unusual punishment.

"C'mon. He already heard the car pull up," he said opening his door. Tobias walked around to her side when she still hadn't gotten out the car. "From experience, kid, the longer we leave him waiting the angrier he'll be."

Kelly sighed and put her shaking hand on the handle and exited the car, shutting the door behind her. She wanted to fall through the floor or make a run for that god awful safehouse that no longer seemed so bad. Tobias walked ahead of her and waited for her to join him on the front porch. Once she had, he opened the door to find Gibbs walking towards them just as Kelly stepped over the threshold. Tobias saw the relief flash in eyes at finally seeing her again unharmed and back home. Though it was quickly replaced by the stone cold anger that had been allowed to brew over the last couple days. He stopped in front of her, hovering in her face. To her credit, she didn't shake much and stood her ground. Gibbs held out his hand, and she dropped the car keys in it

"Upstairs. Now," Gibbs said lowly in a voice that actually made Tobias cringe.

Kelly hurried up the stairs without a word and they waited for her to settle in her room and shut the door quietly. Gibbs let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and dropped the keys in his pocket.

"Thanks, Tobias." It was curt, but he could tell Gibbs had truly meant it. He knew the feeling.

He shrugged, "You woulda done the same for Emily." In fact, he had before. Emily loved her Uncle Gibbs and he had gotten her out of trouble and covered for her more times than Tobias probably even knew about.

"Don't kill the poor girl, Gibbs. She's just a teenager."

"Yeah, a teenager that's managed to give me more gray hair than I already had."

Tobias snorted, "Call me when you start balding."

Gibbs forced air out of his mouth in a tired laugh, "You want a drink?"

"Sure. Been up too long to sleep now."

The two friends headed down to the basement where Gibbs still had some warm chinese takeout and bourbon on the table. Tobias helped himself to the food and chopsticks while Gibbs looked around for his jars.

"Give me your mug will ya? Sawdust makes my throat dry," He said around a mouthful of sesame chicken.

Gibbs smirked, "First my wife. Now my mug…"

"It's only worth it if ya steal it. I'll let you keep Kelly though. Of course, she's got better manners than you. Unlike you, she's sorry about having me out past my bedtime."

"Glad she hasn't lost respect for all her elders. Just me." Gibbs handed Tobias his good mug and poured him some bourbon.

"She's a teenager. They like to test the limits of authority. S'what they do."

"Yeah well that ain't gonna fly around here." Gibbs took a hearty sip of his drink relishing in the burn it left in his throat.

Tobias and Gibbs sat up for the next few hours drinking, eating, and talking until Tobias decided to call it a night. Gibbs tossed him Kelly's keys and told him to bring the car back whenever since Kelly wouldn't be using it anytime soon.

Gibbs headed upstairs cutting the lights off and locking down for the night. He had spent most of his time in basement while Kelly was gone, barely sleeping. When he did he was always under the boat or on the living room couch hoping she would eventually just walk back through the door. But that hadn't happened and Gibbs quickly lost his patience when she continued to not answer his phone calls.

There hadn't been many times in Kelly's life where he was left worrying about her, wondering if she was safe or not. When she was kid she was usually within his sight if he was home. Those few times of uncertainty were always hell. When she had been admitted to the hospital for running a fever above 103 as a baby, he had been beside him himself feeling like a failure and so utterly helpless to do anything to alleviate her discomfort.

When she had gotten herself caught in a tree when she was 7 and nearly fallen to her death while screaming for him, the panic that enveloped him was nearly paralyzing.

But in both those instance, she had been saved. Her doctors had been able to break her fever, and his quick reflexes had caught her just in time before she hit the ground. But the feeling of not knowing where she was, or what she was doing had brought on another onslaught of emotions. He had spent the entire night that she left beside himself pacing the living room waiting for her to come back home and when she didn't, he had asked Tobias whether she showed for work. He could confirm she had but had been sent away on a case immediately that morning to Oregon.

Gibbs was relieved that she had arrived to work safely only to worry again as he watched the case unfold knowing she was there, running after some maniac that killed people in the dark. Kelly had a bad habit of wondering the streets at night when she couldn't sleep. He could only prayed that she had stayed inside her hotel room and close to her team, instead of indulging herself.

He stopped just in front of her door that was still cracked. He never intended to talk to her tonight, figured he should let her stew a bit since she had so graciously didn't answer his calls for several days. Pushing her door open he peered in.

She had fallen asleep atop her cover still dressed in her work clothes and shoes looking like she had been waiting for him. He let put a breath and rubbed his hand roughly across his face. Tomorrow wouldn't be fun and she would be punished and they would need to talk, but knowing that she was safe and down the hall again was enough for tonight. He walked over silently and pulled her boots and socks off her feet and hoisted her legs back on the bed so she laid on it fully. Gibbs gently pushed her hair away from her face knowing she hated when it touched her while she slept.

He smirked to himself remembering the first time he had done this when she fell asleep without changing. He had snuck up on her in her sleep and without opening her eyes, her arm had lashed out and grabbed his throat in a chokehold. Her eyes snapped open and she looked ready to follow up on the attack until she realized it was him. She spent the next hour apologizing and hugging him until he had convinced her he wasn't upset. Now, she seemed to relax her tensed features under his touch knowing, even subconsciously, that she was safe with him.

Kelly woke up feeling tight, constricted, and a little dirty. She had slept in her clothes and makeup again and it stuck to her like an itchy second skin. It took a moment for her to realize she was back at home and not in the safehouse anymore. She listened closely for any signs that her father was up. Of course he was. She could hear him shuffling around downstairs and the smell of coffee wafted upstairs. It was 6:30am and he had to be into work by 8am. She considered pretending to be asleep but figured he would come and wake her up anyway. Besides, she really, really needed a shower and the smell of the jet stuck to her clothes.

She hopped peeled her clothes off and hopped in the shower washing the whole trip and the nervousness from last night off her body and hair. The smells of Lavender, mint, and Mango opened her pores and dug out the the impurities that made her skin itch.

She pulled on an old Georgetowne University t-shirt she had found in a thrift store and a pair of comfy yoga pants. She didn't have to go in today since it was just an administrative day following the case and she had already finished her report on the plane.

Pulling her hair up in a damp bun in the top of her head she cleaned up her dirty clothes and put them in the near overflowing hamper. She was hungry and really wanted a smoothie but she didn't want to go downstairs until her dad left. Or maybe she should, she thought. There was only so much he could say to her when he needed to be at work in a few.

The knock at her door and the creak when it opened made the decision for her.

"Come downstairs, Kelly."

He was gone before she could turn and face him. Looks like there wouldn't be any stalling today. She walked down the stairs to meet him in the kitchen.

He leaned against the countertop, sipping on his coffee. On the table she saw a pair of gloves, a face mask, and cleaning products in a bucket.

"Grab the supplies on the table and follow me," he ordered walking past her. She did as he asked knowing this wasn't gonna be good. Looked like she would doing some deep cleaning if the heavy duty products meant anything. She followed him outside and next door where he knocked on the door to reveal an elderly woman she had never seen before.

"Oh, Leroy you came," the woman squealed. She was a frail woman that looked to be about in her eighties and around 4'11 with a southern accent that she would guess was from Louisiana.

" 'Course, ma'am. Would never leave you empty handed," he drawled in that charming dutiful manner that only military men possessed.

"Oh I knew I could count on you," she said smiling and noticing Kelly for the first time. "You must be Leroy's daughter! I've heard so much about you."

"Yes ma'am," Kelly said politely.

"You never told me what a pretty thing she was Leroy, she reminds me so much of my Eleanor."

The woman looked over her shoulder and called back into the house, "Oh Eleanor, come here my darling. We have guests."

Kelly expected a woman to come around the corner to meet them, but instead they were joined by a cat twirling around the woman's legs with brown hair hair and wide eyes. She didn't know whether to feel flattered or pity the lonely woman.

"Come in, come in, I'll show you where it's at," she waved them in stepping aside and shutting the door behind them. The inside of the house was cluttered with a million knick knacks and flower patterned furniture that made Kelly's eyes bounce. She wasn't sure where curtains ended and where the rug began that matched the obscene furniture.

A cloud of dust hung in the air like the room had been recently sweeped but none of the windows were open to release it outside. Kelly hadn't struggled with her asthma for years, but being in the house made her lungs quiver all over again. Her face must not have hidden her inner horror very well since her father nudged her and glared at the look on her face.

Right, she meant to work on her facial expressions.

"Well dear, as your father knows I'm in need of a good cleanin'. Everything has gotten so out of hand with my Lonnie dying, and I decided I needed a fresh start. Leroy, was just _so_ put out that he couldn't help but he said you loved sprucing up homes and organizin' and this'll be perfect for ya darlin'."

"Done wonders with my living room and kitchen, ma'am. Kelly would love to help and I'm only sorry I can't assist. Goes against my morals to leave such a beautiful woman in need. "

She blushed, "Oh Leroy you say the sweetest things. But you know you're far too old for a youngin like me."

"Thought I'd give it a try anyway," he winked. The old woman giggled girlishly. Kelly watched the pair still holding her bucket praying this would end. She had never seen her father flirt before and felt that there should be an age cap on such banter especially so early in the morning.

"Come, Come, darlin'," the basement is the best place to start. The woman led Leroy and Kelly over to the basement steps and down into the room.

Kelly thought the first floor was in rough condition, but the basement, however, should be condemned. The room was stacked to the ceiling with boxes and trash that been tossed down there rot and fester. The fact that the furnace was down here only made the smell worse as it raged on heating up the house in the middle of August. The floor wasn't visible underneath all the clothes and filth that covered every inch of the room. Apparently Eleanor wasn't the only cat in the house. Kelly could see several pairs of eyes staring at her from underneath the mess and a few crawled out and on top the mess.

Kelly felt her skin crawl just looking around. The room made her want to break out in hives. The woman was a hoarder and while Kelly would never claim to be the neat freak her father was, she _hated_ filth. Her hands and right eye started to twitch, she could feel herself on the edge of snapping. This was a nightmare.

"I need it all cleaned up and outta here. It's embarassin' and I woulda done it myself but I'm too weak to lift anything and I get tired so easily….." The woman looked overwhelmed wringing her hands on the edge of tears. If Kelly wasn't so busy trying to keep herself from having an anxiety attack, she would have comforted her.

" Kelly'll make sure every inch of the house is deep cleaned and organized. No matter how long it takes, I promise."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, both. I don't want my kids to see the house this way, they'll put me in a home if they see this. Have you eaten, Kelly? No matter I'll whip something up," Mary pranced up the stairs and headed to kitchen.

"Dad..." Kelly said addressing her father for the first time today.

"Since ya don't seem to care about anyone but yourself, it'd be best you learned to take others in consideration even if it doesn't benefit you."

"I'm sorry about what happened, Dad. I didn't mean-"

"You're sorry because you're having to face the consequences. As I found out recently, Kelly, your words don't a damned thing. This house had better be spotless. You _will_ do this _alone._ None of your tricks or games, I don't care how long it takes you. Are we clear?"

How could they understand each other when he wasn't listening to her. She was sorry before she knew about her punishment, she wanted to make things right but he wasn't giving her the chance.

"Dad, you're not giving me a chance to explain-"

"It doesn't matter," he said dismissively and gesturing angrily with hand. Kelly watched his hand go up and jumped back, startled. She put her head down refusing to look at him, and quickly made her way down the rest of the stairs out of his sight. Gibbs stared after her retreating figure confused at her sudden reaction. Fear had flashed in her eyes in way he had never seen before. Her temper was seconds from flaring to match his so why had she suddenly recoiled like a kicked puppy and run off? Before he had time to think on it further, Mary flitted back in the room to ask him if Kelly liked some fancy muffin thing. Before she could question him further he got a call about a dead Marine from DiNozzo and had to rush off.

Everything stunk. Everything smelled like cat piss and garbage. It would takes _weeks_ to clean this place. The walls felt like they were caving in on her and she ended up going back to her house for her knee high rain boots. Of course she couldn't clean what she could quite see yet either so the cleaning products were useless until she could get this place emptied out. Mary had informed her that anything that was in the basement wasn't of particular value to her which helped since none of it was any good after being drenched in cat piss for the last decade.

Since it all needed to be removed anyway, she ended up calling a junk hauling company to meet her at the house. Her father told her no one could help her so told the junk hauling people to stay by the car while she brought the boxes and trash outside on the curb for them to throw in the massive hauling trunks. Last thing she needed was Mary accidentally letting it slip that she hired some help..

Thankfully the basement was basically a garage which made going in and out easy enough. The open garage door allowed the heat from the furnace to escape making it more bearable. Ms. Mary was a sweet old lady despite the filth she lived in. She had offered Kelly a scone that she ended up throwing out with the rest of the trash. She didn't want to be rude but she'd rather not die in a suffocating basement because of a contaminated scone.

Cleaning out the basement of all 200 boxes and and countless trash bag had taken her until about 2pm. The basement was still caked in fecal matter and trash juice but it was empty of its original contents. The junk guys had been insistent on helping her until they realized how bad it was inside. Once she had started carrying out petrified cat bodies, they backed off completely from helping and shot her sympathetic looks. Mary was, of course, devastated to find out some of cat babies had been rotting away in the basement.

"Seen alotta bad hauls but this really tops 'em. Lady in there should reported," said the haulman in a thick Jersey accent.

"You really gonna report a little old lady, Pauly?," his friend asked incredulously lifting the last box of old clothes into the truck.

"Chick here just hauled off enough cat corpses to fill a graveyard."

She didn't mind. She spent the last few days staring at dead bodies and she had moved more than few those before too so this wasn't a big deal. The old lady wasn't a sadist or anything but she probably shouldn't be allowed to own pets. She knew she smelled like hell and probably looked it too.

Her body felt weak from all the heavy lifting without breakfast and she needed food in the worst way.

"Thanks for today, guys. I'll probably be calling again tomorrow. I still have the rest of the house to do."

"Think the rest of the house is a graveyard too?," asked Jersey guy.

Kelly laughed, "No, I think the best was the worst of it honestly. Everything else is a organization and deep cleaning. How much do I owe you guys?"

"Don't worry about it for today. We'll talk price once we're done."

Once the team left Kelly said goodbye to Mary for the day and promised to come back tomorrow to continue. Working in that basement had been hell, but seeing Mary's face light up at the sight of her emptyish basement had made it almost worth it.

For the second time that day, she jumped into the shower trying to wash off the smell of that basement. Their fight this morning hurt her more than she wanted to admit. He barely looked at her, barely acknowledged her existence until he was basically yelling at her in a filthy basement. He wasn't listening, he thought she was selfish and self centered. She hadn't meant to be. She just didn't know how to face him after what happened. She always had a plan of attack, always knew how she would approach an issue regardless of how hard everything seemed. But ever since the institute crumbled she was on shaky ground. She wasn't used to dealing with emotions, much less her own. She felt like she was messing everything up. Her past was colliding with her present and she didn't know how to find her footing in the middle of it all. She could deal with her team being wary of her, but having her father view her with such distrust, maybe even disgust, was killing her. She hadn't meant for all this to get so out of hand. She was just trying to help Harry and his son, but now her father probably thought she was a cold blooded murderer. She wasn't sorry about what she did, not at all apologetic about what had happened, but maybe that was the problem. Maybe she _should_ be sorry.

She wanted her father to be proud of her, wanted him to love her but perhaps she didn't deserve that. After finding him again, she felt like she was finally escaping her old life. Turning a new leaf and taking control of her life. But the past had come back and he had been forced to face who she was firsthand and he clearly didn't like it. It was one thing for him to accept what had happened when he wasn't around, because he didn't have to see it. He could leave the past in the past. But seeing it firsthand was something else. Maybe he saw her for the monster she really was no matter how much he claimed it didn't matter before. He couldn't ignore who she was anymore when he saw it in action.

Kelly leaned her head against the cool tiles of the shower and allowed the tears to flow freely. Her father loved the idea of her, but he obviously didn't love her for who she was right now. His words rang in her ears, torturing her.

 _Don't know who ya are. I expected more of you, Kelly. How could you?_

She had made such a mess of things. The words were so heavy she slid down the wall and sat on the shower floor until the water ran cold.

Pulling herself up she turned off the water and stepped out to towel off. If a case didn't keep him away, her father would be home again tonight. Kelly threw on a long shirt and headed downstairs to make dinner. Her father would eat anything and she suddenly needed comfort food. Some people lost their appetite when they're stressed or sad but it just made Kelly hungry. She had a sudden craving for shrimp curry and rice. She tossed the ingredients in the slow cooker for on high for a few hours while she cleaned the house and did some laundry. She didn't want to give her father another reason to be angry with her and figured he'd be in a better mood if the house was spotless.

Her muscles screamed at her as she mopped the floor in the living room. She had already worn her muscle ragged from lifting, bending, and carrying all day. She winced at the thought of having to go back to Mary's again tomorrow. Her arms felt like putty but she kept pushing herself and moved on to basement to sweep and dust. There was something about being productive that made her feel useful and slightly better.

It was almost 7 o'clock and her father hadn't called all day to let her know whether he was coming home or not. He would probably wring her neck if she had done the same. She didn't really want to see him anyway. It would be awkward and right now it seemed better to make herself scarce. He would just ignore her anyway or worse, lecture her Zetes was angry with her or any of the other kids, they would just give him wide berth and let him simmer alone. She knew better than to get in his way when he was pissed with her. Being unable to read his mood or hanging around when her clearly needed space, never ended well for anyone. She had made that mistake once and saw others make it countless times.

Her room was the safest place for her and after watching a few shows on her computer, she dozed off to sleep to get ready for another early day.

By the time Gibbs had made it home, it was around 8 o'clock. The case had thankfully wrapped itself within the day and the team was gone without hesitation the second he dismissed them. He couldn't blame them. While the case hadn't been tough, he certainly had been. The team had gotten used to him being in a better mood, so the sharp change had startled them. He was still gruff and demanding but the lightness he felt within now that he had someone to live for was outwardly visible.

It wasn't until he was driving in to work that he had time to think about he and Kelly's conversation in Mary's basement. She had flinched like he would strike her. It wasn't just her reaction, but rather how reflexive the action was. Like she anticipated it, like she _expected it._ He slammed on the brakes and nearly hit the car in front of him in the middle of the intersection when he realized it. He wouldn't hit Kelly, but someone had before. More than once.

The realization made him pull to the side of the road and lose his breakfast on the side of the road. He already hated himself for what happened to her, already couldn't forgive himself for what that sick bastard had done to her. Seeing her fearful, innocent blue eyes in his head made his stomach retch uncontrollably. His hands shook as he grabbed the wheel catching breath again. He wanted to go back home to her, tell her he'd never hurt her but he doubted he had the words even if she was willing to listen to them. He'd only been a father again for a few months and he already felt like he was failing her again, messing her up even.

He pulled in his driveway around nine that evening to see Mary out front looking like she had just returned from a store run.

"Evenin' Ms. Winchester," he greeted cordially to the older woman. He never talked to any of his neighbors if he could avoid it but Mary had forced him into enough conversations and shoved enough banana bread down his throat over the years that he knew better than to not acknowledge her whenever they saw each other. She had forced herself in his life in a way that his more distant colleagues had never dared to and her tenacity had soften him to her.

"Oh, evening, Leroy! Just getting back from work?", she asked from her from her car.

"Mhmm, yes ma'am. Hope Kelly didn't give you too much trouble. She still with ya?"

"Oh good lord no, I let her go hours ago. She was just an absolute dream, Leroy. The whole basement is empty and Eleanor is just loving all the free space. She hardly made a peep all day and before I knew it I was rid of all that junk."

"I'm happy she got it all taken care for ya," he said genuinely. An old woman living in squalor because she was afraid to tell her kids because they may put her in a home was enough to make Gibb's blood boil.

"I can't wait for the rest to be finished. I must pay her back somehow for all this. She's doin' so much for me I don't want her to think I'm takin' advantage."

"Kelly likes projects, I'm sure she doesn't mind."

The two parted for the night and Gibbs rushed in the house expecting to see Kelly curled up on the couch watching a movie like she usually did late at night but the couch looked like it hadn't even been sat on. Instead Gibbs was met with mouthwatering smell of food and spices coming from the kitchen. The house smelled of fresh laundry, warm fragrance, and hints of cleaning product. He had seen her bike when he pulled in and it was too early for one of her insomnia strolls. He would bet she was upstairs somewhere.

Gibbs felt his stomach growl at smell of whatever Kelly had cooked. She had left plenty for him to have when he got back. He hadn't eaten anything much since this morning and since he lost that on the way in, he spent all day filling the hole in his stomach with coffee. He wasted no time making a bowl for himself, eating before he even had a chance to sit.

He checked her room and found her curled up in bed with only her night light on. She faced the window and her breath was steady, if not a little wheezy. The only sound in the room was the gentle puffing of her plug in nasal diffuser. Kelly had allergies in the summer that were no doubt exacerbated by all the dust and cat fur in Mary's basement. Gibbs felt a pang of guilt in his heart knowing her allergies made her uncomfortable enough to actually dig out the machine to help her. He grabbed some allergy medicine from the hallway closet and placed it gently on her nightstand for her to find in the morning before she went back in to alleviate the symptoms. He left a gentle kiss on her hair and shut the door.

The next few days followed much the same routine. Gibbs would come home to find dinner in the kitchen either on a plate or in the fridge for him. He wanted to talk to her but with Kelly now juggling work and helping Mary, he never actually got home in time to see her before she went to bed.

He knew for a fact that her team was out on a case this week that Kelly hadn't joined them on because she couldn't legally take on their full workload until she was 18 and Mary was out visiting her sister for a few days so the house was locked seeing her around the house was making him worry despite her being right above him in her room.

He sat in the basement decompressing from the day worrying about Kelly. His gut started to tell him that his little girl was avoiding him and that made his heart ache and his hand grip the item he was crafting just a little harder. He stared at the empty armchair in the basement that his daughter would occupy everytime she sat with him down there, He had been hard on Kelly, he knew that. She scared the life out of him and worried him nearly bald. But that didn't mean he was angry enough to not want to see her anymore. He would never be that angry. He missed her company, her soft voice chattering away about her day. Her silly stories and giggles that chased the darkness of the work day away. Now he wasn't sure she wanted much to do with hi at all.

He rolled around the jewelry box she had asked him for one night in his hands. It was coming along beautifully with its intricate carvings and designs. He worried that perhaps she resented him for punishing her. Just the thought of her hating him made his chest tighten and lump form in his throat.

It was easier to punish one of his agents for making a mistake that could cost them their lives or endanger members of the team. He had no problem making DiNozzo or Ziva do piles of paperwork as punishment to make them better agents. No qualms about making them suffer to learn a hard lesson because they could take it. But punishing Kelly was like trying to punish Abby.

He hated punishing Kelly. Always had. Hated seeing her soft blue eyes cloud over with tears when he had to reprimand her even as a kid. It didn't happen often. She had always been a good kid. Rather mischievous, but still well-behaved. She wasn't much different now. She was just upstairs sleeping yet she felt farther than that. He wasn't sure how to close the gap that existed between them. He had never been much of a communicator and didn't express his feelings very well. He had three failed marriages that could attest that fact. But standing up from his seat and heading to kitchen, he knew what he had to do and began making Kelly her favorite apple cider with cinnamon sticks. Something he used to always do whenever they had tough conversations at night when she was a kid. He may have failed and given up on trying to be a decent husband to all his wives, but he knew as long as he had breath in his body he would never stop trying to be the father his Kelly deserved. He had gotten a second chance with her and he'd be a fool to waste it.

Gibbs made his way upstairs to her room, drinks in hand. Her lights were off and she lay with her back turned sleeping under her covers. He had heard moving around about 20 minutes ago going to the bathroom, so she couldn't be too far gone. He placed her drink on bedside table and nudged her gently not wanting to startle her.

"Kels? Sweetheart, wake up."

Kelly moaned and turned to face him looking at him pouting adorably at being woken up.

"Mhmm," she mumbled.

"Gotta talk to ya, baby girl."

She looked at him like she was seeing him for the first time and sat up and looked at the mug in his hand, her features clearing as she understood why he was here so late. She bit her lip and asked, "You going off to war again or something?"

Gibbs smirked happy she at least wasn't too pissed to talk to him and shook his head looking down at his drink. "Nah, little old for that now, Kels."

He handed her the mug on the table, "Do need to talk to you though."

"Okay," she said not wanting to look at him when he told her he didn't want her around anymore.

They both had let too much time stretch between them and let a lot of crap accumulate that they now had to talk about. Gibbs swallowed his uncertainty, determined to get past this obstacle between them. He started with what bothered him most.

"Need ya to know that I'd never hurt you. Wouldn't dream of hittin ya," he said gently.

She looked taken aback with where he started and watched as her eyes glazed over and avoid his gaze.

"I know that," she whispered. She did know that. Her reaction had only been a reflex. Something she had been conditioned over time to do. It wasn't anything she had or would associate with her dad.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Her face scrunched at the bed spread as she considered his offer. She didn't really want to delve back in to this knowing it would hurt him more than it would her. Despite everything that had happened with Zetes, she had long made peace with it and refused to let him steal another precious moment of her life by allowing his memory to taint her present and future. Truthfully, she only wanted to protect her dad, the man who had been through more than he should have had to bear, from anymore pain. But considering everything that had happened, perhaps being upfront with him was best.

Still staring at the bedspread she started, "Used to get smacked around when I didn't do a good job. Nothing too serious, just enough to make me do better." She was trying to be honest but she still downplayed it. Zetes wouldn't just smack her, he'd kick her in the ribs or shove her against walls.

Gibbs saw through the hesitation, knowing she was downplaying it for his sake. He tried to control his anger that made him see red whenever Zetes was brought up. He didn't want her to think he was upset with her.

"This happen often?" Her knee jerk reaction was to say no, but she didn't want to have to lie to him.

"Only when I deserved it or failed to keep the others in line. The team was my responsibility so I was punished if someone goofed. Not a big deal."

"Kelly Marie, you do not nor did ya ever _deserve_ to be beaten regardless of what you or anyone else did. You understand me?"

She nodded and whispered, "Okay." No one had really ever told her that. They had all just accepted what was thrown their way, never really considering whether it was right. Wouldn't change anything anyway.

Gibbs sighed, at least one thing was down. "Ya wanna tell me what actually happened with this Harry person?"

Her face screwed up remembering the bug in her phone, "Don't you already know?" She wasn't able to keep some of the venom out of her voice.

He sighed,"Found the bug did ya?"

She leveled his own glare at him in response.

"Ya weren't exactly being honest. What ya did was dangerous Kelly. Don think you understand that."

Kelly paused and considered her next words. She had told him what she had been through in the boat but never really went in to details. So before she could stop herself she said, "When I was 8 years old Zetes placed me in an auction for children in the sex trade. Pedophiles pay a lot of money for healthy children, especially the high end international markets. My job, one of my first missions, was escaping and setting free everyone else. I managed to do and freed around 70 girls over the course of 3 days by distracting the guards at night by telling them stories to keep them distracted. _That_ was dangerous. I had no idea what I was doing. Robbing a bank of classified intel and then pretending to be one the hostages in order to escape in Colombia was a gamble, but more fun than anything. Shutting down a terrorist organization from within in Israel, was certainly more pressing. Especially after losing a teammate. And escaping a factory explosion by taking an old mining tunnel out, was a definite risk. I have issues with classifying things as dangerous because of the majority of my childhood was spent doing things most people don't live to talk about. That cartel stunt was a cakewalk."

Gibbs closed his eyes and took a deep breath trying to absorb everything she told him. And shook his head of the imagery. If he told her to be honest, he had to be ready to hear the truth.

"S'not that I don't think you're capable, Kels. I know that ya are. But no matter how much I see you do, or how much ya tell me about my heart's still gonna stop at the sight of guys with military grade weapons surrounding you. If ya hadn't put on that fire show of yours, I was gonna take as many of them out as I could with my government gun."

"That's suicide," Kelly hissed. Just the thought of her father jumping in to distract those animals from killing her made her vision tilt. "You could have been killed."

Gibbs looked at daughter and said in haunted voice, "If dyin to protect you is what keeps me from ever having to bury ya again, then I'd do it every time. Without hesitation."

"Daddy.." She choked around her tears not quite able to speak. She didn't want to think of her father dying. She'd be lost if something were to happen to if it were because of her.

"Wasn't mad at you because of what ya did. I know why ya did it. Heard ya talk about it. Was upset because you laid your life on the line. Coulda helped you."

She looked down, rather ashamed that despite trying to keep him from getting hurt, she ended up hurting him in the only way that mattered to him, "Why didn't ya come to me, Kels?"

"Because I didn't want you to get in trouble if something happened. The police couldn't have helped someone that didn't technically exist. They would have made a mess of a bunch of little things and thrown the book at him and called it justice. Going through official channels wouldn't have saved anybody but the cartel. If something would have gone wrong, I didn't want you involved. You could have been arrested, or lost your job."

" _You_ could have been arrested or lost your job,"

"If I got arrested I would just get released. And you and I both know I'm just going through the motions at work."

Gibbs rubbed his face, a bit exasperated. He was frustrated but he knew where she was coming from. She had only been preserve his job and reputation. But that wasn't her job to decide that for him.

"Okay, promise me something. From now on, we don't lie to each other. I wanna to know everything, regardless of what it is."

"Everything?"

"Yeah, cause cuttin details is what got us here. You can tell me anything, Kels. Only gonna get mad if you lie about it. Ya mean more to me than my job and reputation, and if I lose either one of those protecting you then I can live with that."

"But I can't," she said in a small voice.

"Let me worry bout that."

She just looked away.

"One more thing, rule #3: never be unreachable. Answer your damn phone when I call you."

Kelly groaned, "Thought you would have put the rules to rest."

"Nope. Live by 'em."

Kelly rolled her eyes and wondered if his team knew about these rules. She could recite them by heart.

"We okay, Dad?," she asked uncertain after a pause.

Gibbs hugged her to his side and kissed her forehead, "We always were, Kels. No matter what, don't ya ever be afraid to come home or talk to me about something."

Kelly snuggled into his side and buried her face in his shoulder. "Deal."

They spent the rest of the night catching up over the past few days. He wanted to know all about her first case and if the team worked well together. She asked him about his work and team and he told her funny stories about the agents she hoped to meet someday. Nestled into his lap she let his stories put her sleep.

Author's Note: This took forever, sorry guys. I have some images if anyone is curious about what Kelly looks like, her car, the living room, or bedroom theme all in my profile. As always, review away


	12. Bring Your Kid To Work Day

The office atmosphere was gloomy and hushed when she walked in that morning. Kelly had nothing to do since the rest of the team was currently talking about their feelings in grief counseling and she had long finished her paperwork. Kelly had never actually been to grief counseling, but she imagined doing with a group of trained profilers and an over emotional techie was gonna amount to a long day that she thanked God she had nothing to do with. She couldn't help but smirk at the idea of trying to give anyone of her former team members grief counseling of any kind. Dealing with feelings and being forced to recount the nightmares that haunted you were motions that federal employers regularly made their agents go through to gain closure, but Kelly would rather have her teeth pulled and shoved into her nail beds than to have to talk about feelings with some therapist.

They had just come back from another case in Virginia after finding dead bodies in the trunk of a crashed car. The whole thing was a complete coincidence and had the driver not been driven off the road by a semi, they never would have found the human trafficking ring. The man had been disposing of some bodies and running them north when the accident occured.

Looking at the case had brought back memories of infiltrating rings similar to this one. Looking down at the trunk of the crumpled bodies, Kelly had remembered exactly why she had opted out of the sex crimes department of the FBI. And while she wanted nothing to do with the department, her experience came in handy finding the holding cell for the victims.

Her team had been silent as she took over the whiteboard easily breaking down the possible routes, locations, and means by which these people stayed in contact with each other while avoiding detection. When Hotch arched an eyebrow that silently prompted her to explain herself she had simply explained she had a lot of experience with sex crimes.

Morgan had scoffed while Garcia, who had tagged along, flushed red and looked down at her computer. She had to deal with Morgan making snide remarks the rest of the case and Garcia avoiding her gaze. She wasn't put off though. Morgan was amusingly sensitive and she liked winding him up. When Rossi had asked her where she thought the suspects were holding the victims and how they kept them, she had told him that sex rings of the scale usually housed their victims in warehouses where they're drugged to make for easy transportation.

"Like chloroform?," he had asked.

"No chloroform can cause outward damage like sores and blistering of the face and constant exposure can kill them which would be waste of resources. The clients would view them as damaged if they're bruised and battered. Rohypnol is better. Keeps them disoriented and cooperative. Easy to come by too."

Morgan snorted at her explanation, "You sound like you're speaking from firsthand experience."

Kelly was unphased by the thinly veiled accusation and shrugged, "I am. Moving large groups of people takes experience that you can only gain by doing it yourself. I even have a favorite drug."

Morgan's jaw tightened and his eyes flashed dangerously at her flippant admission and was cut off by Rossi who quickly changed the subject. Kelly wasn't sorry though. If he wanted to make assumptions about her and make her out to be a monster, she was more than happy to rise to the occasion.

Morgan had more than a few suspicions about the team's newest agent. She was vague and often skirted around questions about anything personal and her file didn't help matters. She was simultaneously hiding something and throwing details in his face whenever it amused her. After enduring the pain of losing Emily to Ian Doyle, he wasn't willing to allow his team to be hurt by another team member with an ambiguous past. He wasn't the the most open person himself, but laying your cards on the table was something they had all learned to do to keep each other safe. Secrets were dangerous.

It was heartbreaking to realize he didn't actually know Emily and he refused to be hurt like that again.

Agent Frost lived up to her name and gave nothing away. She was always lurking on the outskirts of the team and he wasn't even sure she was aware of how much she subtly distanced herself from the team. Opting to board the plane last so she wouldn't be forced into a corner with everyone else was her most persistent habit since her first case. Reid was often the only member of the team that could , or tried, to make successful small talk with her, or goad her into a game of cards.

Everyone else gave her wide berth and didn't comment on her demeanor though he was certain it didn't escape their notice. As usual, Hotch and Rossi both remained quiet about the newest agent and encouraged him to not be so dismissive of her. Neither agents were particularly communicative with anyone but each other anyway so Morgan knew they had their own conversations. But Morgan refused to be fooled or caught off guard again. What happened with Emily would never happen again if he could help it.

#######

Kelly leaned back in her seat balancing herself on the back legs of her chair, with her designer boot clad feet propped on her desk, sipping at her smoothie. For as much as the FBI and CIA stayed riding her like a race horse in the past, she never thought she'd have this much free to play angry birds as a federal agent.

"Wonder what your father would say if he knew you were playing video games on the job?"

Kelly tilted her head backwards to see an upside down Tobias Fornell and shrugged, "He's be disappointed, but not surprised."

Tobias shook his head at the teenager, "Still making trouble I see?"

"Still taking joy rides in my car I see," Kelly fired back hearing the sound of her car keys tinkering faintly in his pockets. "You didn't just come to lecture me though. To what do I owe the pleasure?," she sarcastically flattening her seat to the ground as he came around to face her.

She and Fornell had gotten off to a weird but cordial start. As she got to know the agent she knew better than to be put off by his aloof, rude manner. She was used to, embraced it even seeing as she had grown up with his silver haired twin for a father.

Sitting on her desk he asked, "You up for a field trip?"

Kelly arched her eyebrow regarding him for a minute and smiled, "This your way of asking for help?"

He knocked her feet off her desk and stood up. "Not like you've got anything better to do."

 _Touche_

Kelly tossed her smoothie in the trashcan and followed him outside the sun, kissing her face in the morning heat. "You at least gonna tell me what this is about or are you really taking me out for ice cream and a museum tour."

"There have been series of killings in the area that the local detective have determined to be the work of a serial killer. The victims are all men so far. Well-built, athletic, and now, soldiers. Some of the previous victims have been random athletic types that frequent gym and MMA circles."

"Sounds like an NCIS issue. Why is the FBI involved?"

"They are involved. As is Army CID. One of the victims was the nephew of the Director of the FBI. The Bureau is taking it personally as if the director maybe at risk as well."

"You sure it's personal considering the other victims are active soldiers and gym rats?"

"Not sure. That's why the Director personally asked for you to be brought in. Needs you to find a connection."

"Always knew Dickie had a soft spot for me."

"Director _Richard Fields,_ is trusting you on this one," he corrected obviously disapproving of her use of a nickname for the agency head

"At the risk of not sounding like a good team player, I need to ask the obligatory question: Why is the rest of my team not involved?," she asked sarcastically.

Tobias scoffed, "Because the Director asked for you. And, for whatever reason, Hotch thinks you can handle it alone too. Besides, there's already too many hands in the pot. Even I'm not assigned. Just dropping you off."

Kelly wasn't really listening,"Sounds fun, can I drive?"

"You off punishment?"

Kelly paused. They hadn't talked about it, even after she had finished spraying down Mary's house in a hazmat suit. "Not sure."

Tobias opened the the drivers door and smirked, "Get in, little Gibbs."

Kelly made a face at him and got in. She missed her baby and she still smelled so good.

"You better not be eating in my baby."

Tobias rolled his eyes and and started off down the road.

XXXX

The NCIS bullpen was its usual bustling place with agents milling around. A small part of Kelly was jealous of the natural light that poured in from the eastern window and lit up the office. The light and airy office was so nice with a spectacular view of the docks.

"You'll be working with your father. He's leading the NCIS portion of the case along with a Colonel Mann for CID," Tobias explained walking into the room. "You'll be representing the FBI. The Bureau is trusting you to close this investigation quickly and find the bastard who did this. Here's the file," he handed her a thick manila folder and turned back towards the elevator.

"You're leaving already?"

"As much as I'd love to stay around and antagonize Jethro, I have my own investigation to nip into bud. Don't worry, Daddy dearest will take care of you." Tobias waved as the elevator doors shut.

Kelly looked around and headed towards her father's desk. He wasn't there but his team was. She recognized them from his stories and she recognized Ziva from some of the pictures in the file Amus had shown her. The team was typing away on their computers not quite noticing her yet. She walked over to her father's desk and sat in his chair opening the file Tobias had handed her. The typing around her stopped as the three team members looked over at the woman sitting at Gibbs desk. They looked at each other silently asking each other what was going on. The girl obviously had a death wish and while Ziva and McGee wanted to save her from her own ignorance, Tony was more than willing to let her crash and burn when Gibbs returned from Abby's lab. He had to learn the hard way so why shouldn't she?

"Umm can we help you?," ZIva said breaking the silence.

The young woman looked up and met her eyes and Ziva couldn't help but be taken aback by the intensity of her icy gaze made slightly hostile by the scar-like nick that cut through her eyebrow.

Kelly looked back down at the file on the desk that she had managed to get about halfway through."No. Just waiting," she said shortly resuming her reading.

"Fooor Gibbs..?" Tony asked drawing out the first word of his question. He hadn't been informed of any new recruits and they weren't interviewing witnesses just yet. Of course, that didn't mean Gibbs hadn't called her himself without telling them. Wouldn't be the first time...

"Mhmm." Kelly didn't mean to be short, but she really needed to get through this case file before her father arrived so she'd have something by the way of profile of the suspect and the victims themselves. If her preliminary estimations were correct, he would strike again by tonight. All his kills were happening so quickly, by the time he killed again the previous body hadn't even cooled yet.

The team resumed their work with a shrug at each other. They'd know something once Gibbs got here and explained it.

"Whadda we got?" Gibbs voiced boomed as he rounded the corner with Colonel Mann. SecNav wanted this case handled and solved yesterday and their killer had already claimed 4 soldiers before they formally received the case, not mention the civilians who had been killed before he hit his stride.

"Nothing yet boss, CID is surveying the crimes scenes of the army officers and Ducky has the bodies of the marines, " Tony reported. Ziva followed up, "I'm currently backtracking the last few days of the victims to find any commonalities in routine."

Gibbs sighed. They weren't moving fast enough, they needed something concrete and they needed before the killer struck again. Every military base and active duty soldier on the East Coast was on high alert.

"Manage to access anything from the military police on base?," Colonel Mann asked no one in particular.

"Yes, they're pulling all visitor logs from the past 3 months and vetting the list. We're waiting on them to send it over," McGee said.

Gibbs rubbed his face and walked over to his desk to find it occupied. When he stopped in front of it, his suspicions were confirmed when the young woman looked up and beamed at him. "Hi, Gibbs."

Gibb mouth tugged upward in his signature half smile, his eyes softening despite himself at his daughter in front of him. After the day he had he was happy to see her and figured she wouldn't be smiling if she was in trouble.

"I come bearing gifts," Kelly said handing him the dark watercolor painted reusable to-go mug she had painted for him on an art date with Amus last week filled with his favorite Jamaican Blend.

Gibbs examined at the large, thick plastic reusable cup, sublty sniffing the contents and stared at her. "Why?"

"Why am I here or why did I make you a pretty, environmentally sound cup?"

Gibbs knew why she had gotten him the cup. She once lectured him about how he went through 20 cups a day that the cups he threw away that would someday end up in a seal's eyeball or something. He rolled his eyes at her, ignoring the questioning stares of the team and Colonel Mann.

"FBI asked me to be here since the local police asked for the assistance of a profiler before he started killing servicemen. The rest of my team is wrapped up in Dr. Phil sessions so I'm solo."

"Just you then? No Tobias?"

"Nope, guess you'll have to reschedule your usual playdate," she quipped.

"So now the investigation is a three way joint effort between NCIS, CID, and FBI?," Tony asked not able to remain silent anymore.

"Looks that way," Gibbs said.

"And you're...okay with this?," McGee asked speaking for the first time. Gibbs never shared investigations without a fight. He and Mann had been bickering since the case had been dropped in their laps about who was gonna lead. Now some new girl shows up and tags her name to it without so much as a glare.

"Are you not, McGee?," Gibbs said pulling up a chair from an empty desk and sitting across from Kelly sipping from the coffee she got him. Gibbs gestured for Kelly to hand over the FBI file that was no doubt much more detailed than what NCIS currently had.

"No, no, Boss, I'm fine."

"Then get back to work."

Mann watched the exchange from the sidelines not able to process what was going on in front of her. In the weeks she had known Gibbs he had been anything but easy to work with. He was territorial and infuriating on his best days, but he had accepted this new agent with no fuss whatsoever. She certainly hadn't gotten that welcome despite their initial attraction. He had even smiled at her, affectionately at that, something she had yet to accomplish. The new agent was young, younger than many agents she had seen. Hollis would surprised if she were even old enough to be in college. Gibbs had a penchant for playing favorites among younger women she had surmised after seeing him with Abby, and now this girl. She couldn't help but feel uneasy given the gray area he kept their relationship in and began to wonder if he even liked women his own age.

"Well. I'm not sure what your superiors told you, but CID will be leading this investigation. NCIS is secondary. We can send FBI the copies of everything," Mann announced needing to make her presence and authority known. Gibb's team already treated her orders as suggestions, looking to Gibbs for approval before acting even when it was her call to make. She didn't want this new, young agent doing so too FBI or not.

Kelly didn't acknowledge that she had even spoken and kept talking to Gibbs. The team pretended, for her sake, not to notice the snub.

"Tell me Kels," Gibbs said in a hushed tone that didn't allow the others to hear. "Whaddya got? Army thinks we're working with a professional."

"What like a mercenary?"

"Too early to cancel anything out."

"No, it's not. Mercenaries don't make a habit of leaving signatures," she said gesturing to the picture of the upside down flag with "Death to America" scrawled across it in marker found on every crime scene of each victim. "Can I borrow your whiteboard. I'm a visual type of person."

"Yeah, go for it" he mumbled turning in his chair to watch her work.

Kelly stood and erased the stray marks on the board and started outlining victimology. The first kill was Lieutenant Johnson, exhibited severe defensive wounds and with the cause of death being slice to the throat on the way home in his car. The second one, Petty Officer Daniels had a broken neck, probably snapped. The third victim, Corporal Andrews, had been strangled to death in his home, and the fourth and most current victim Private Banks had been killed execution style in his garage. Every victim had been beaten severely before death. It wasn't the mark of a mercenary at all.

"The blood all belong to the victims?"

"Our lab tech is running the samples now, but yeah it's safe to assume is it especially since even Daniels had wounds," DiNozzo added.

"When it is ever safe to assume, DiNozzo?," Gibbs asked.

"Never, Boss."

"Then don't."

"There's no similar kill style for any of the victims but he engaged in combat with all of them. They're all around the same age and they're all white so the unub is probably white and in his mid-twenties as well. He keeps changing his method which means he either hasn't found his style or they're personal to each victim."

"Sounds like an assumption," the Colonel stated.

"It's not. It's statistics. White perpetrators tend to target those of their own race and the sheer physicality of the crime would suggest that he's around his early to mid twenties as well. Incredibly athletic and a trained fighter," Frost stated still facing the board. She had gotten used to this from local PDs.

"How do we know it's not an act of terrorism? This signature is common among some groups under surveillance in the area. We may be looking for something greater than one person," Mann said.

Gibbs glanced over at Kelly briefly curious as to how'd she respond. The Director no doubt felt the same way.

Kelly regarded the woman dressed in fatigues sporting a tight french braid. "More like someone trying to make it look that way. Terrorists are not prone to up close killings, they kill en mass. The sheer amount of wounds inflicted upon the victims is overkill. They're crimes of passion."

"Profiling often leads to dangerous assumptions is all I'm saying. We don't want to chase the wrong man because of guesswork."

"Guesswork?," Kelly asked slowly.

"The stakes are too high and complicated to make overspecified assumptions based on baseless correlations."

"These 'oversimplified assumptions' are the grounds upon which federal agencies conduct investigations and narrow down suspects."

"And they can be effective guidelines, but we can't rule out terrorism as a possibility. I'm sure you're a fine agent, but you're young and you'll learn that not everything is so black and white. I'm sure your superiors would echo my sentiments."

The energy in the room shifted as the Frost and Mann faced each other. The team watched the exchange darting their eyes between the two women like they were waiting for a bomb to explode. DiNozzo smiled like a cheshire cat while the scene played out in front him.

 _This was better than paper view,_ he thought.

Kelly arched a brow at the dig, but kept her voice levelled and cool. "My _superiors_ would agree with my assessments. One of the them is the founder of this 'oversimplified guesswork.' Of course, we can always ask the Director of the FBI if that is not sufficient for you. He has taken a special interest in this case."

"And why would that be?".

"Private Banks is his nephew. Or was. He's the one that assigned me to this case. You're more than welcome to let him know what you think of his decision making skills."

"Killshot," DiNozzo mumbled under his breath.

At this Mann nodded stiffly and backed off, but didn't apologize. While she had her reservations, she knew when to keep her opinions to herself. Gibbs sat silently in his chair ready to intervene if necessary but glad it hadn't come to that. The Colonel wouldn't be the only questioning Kelly's conclusion and while he hated to watch her be talked down to, he burned with silent pride watching her defend herself.

The phone on his desk rang and he reached over to answer it.

Kelly turned back to the board and continued her notes and attaching the pictures from the file on the board. She and her team did this often and she found herself liking the habit. It helped keep everything in front of her and organized. Helped keep her mind on the whole picture.

"Hey! C'mon. You're with me," Gibbs said breezing past nodding towards the stairs. "You too, Colonel."

Kelly put down her marker on the board and followed her father on the stairs with the Colonel following right behind her. Gibbs led them upstairs to into the Director's office.

Gibbs opened the door and walked in ignoring the frustrated secretary's insistence that he should knock first. All three filed in and stood in front of the desk of the Director of NCIS who wasn't at all startled by their abrupt entrance.

Jenny looked up from her file and peered at them over her glasses. "We'll work on the knocking later, Jethro. I don't think I have to emphasis the importance of this case. SecNav is breathing down my neck and they're ready to hand this case over to the FBI. Bringing in one of their own is the compromise. Tell me you've something that keeps the ball in our court."

"Gettin' there," Gibbs grunted.

"Jethro, I need something more concrete to communicate back to SecNav," Director Shepard.

"Faster you let us get back to work, faster we'll have somethin'. That all?"

Jenny ignored Jethro's impatience and let her eyes snap over to the pretty, young FBI agent at his side and smiled. "We haven't met. The FBI recommended you with high regard. Though I didn't expect you to be so young." People usually didn't mention to Kelly's face that they found her age to be questionable even if she could see it in their eyes, but today it had already happened twice. She didn't really know how the Director wanted her to respond to her observation so she simply gave a slight nod in acknowledgement but didn't offer any additional information trying to keep the smirk off her face. The last time she had seen Jennifer Shepard she had been chasing Kelly and her team through the streets of Morocco. This had been just after she had broken up her with her father and Kelly had taken a sick pleasure in making the newly promoted agent's life hell that day.

"Are we done here, Jen?" Gibbs interjected saving her from the Director's line of questioning. But Jennifer Shepard wasn't letting him off the hook. There was no way Jethro was okay with another hand in his pot.

"I'm surprised, Jethro, you always make a fuss about joint agency efforts. No snide comments? Not even a protest."

"People change."

"Yes, _they_ do." She emphasized. Jethro never changed.

The Director returned her stare at the very young agent in front of her as Kelly stared an icy blue gaze right back at her. Jenny shifted her gaze to the Colonel not liking the way Kelly's gaze had made her falter slightly. It seemed oddly familiar. She shook off the feeling and continued.

"Colonel Mann, I expect the team to run as efficiently as I know it can even with a new addition." The Director glanced at knowing look and smirk at Colonel Mann who seemed to stiffen at the hidden meaning in her words. Jenny was baiting her. Jethro's subtle defense of the young agent and his easy acceptance hadn't gone unnoticed by the Director. Colonel Mann and Gibbs worked well together. That was undeniable. So far, she and Gibbs had been co-captains, but bringing in an FBI profiler that had jurisdiction to trump even the Director's wouldn't be easy on Mann. Jenny didn't mean to be petty but she found herself unable to help it. Colonel Mann's presence in Gibb's life reminded her of the decision she made in Paris all those years ago that she still regretted. A dig every now and then made her feel better about her situation and the new girl just gave her a means.

"My first priority is this case. Nothing will get in the way of that." Hollis tried to communicate the underlying truth of her words. The new agent unsettled her. Like she was missing something integral about her that she couldn't quite place. But she couldn't quite place it. Jethro had never been the most forthcoming man she had ever met and she had a feeling he wouldn't start now. She wouldn't allow this to sway her though, she could worry about it later. "You make sure of that," Jenny said, smirking ever so slightly. Frost watched them from the corner of her eye strangely. They shared a knowing looking that made Mann tense and Jenny smug. Kelly stole a glance over at her father who looked exasperated and a bit uncomfortable.

Jenny nodded and dismissed them to continue their work. This would be interesting.


	13. Part Two

Back in the bullpen, the team had already brought in the men's family to interview. There hadn't been any signs of break in for the two soldiers who had been killed at home at night. Which meant they had allowed them in. The garage was an intimate place for Banks because it was where it he worked on his old classic mustang. He wouldn't have let just anyone in, so they unsub had to be someone he knew personally enough to let him in his safe place. The car hadn't even hadn't been stolen.

Kelly was supposed to be looking for case connections but she got distracted. Across from her Tony was laying his head on his desk apparently having already given up for the day after interviewing the grieving families. Her father had told her plenty about Tony and his antics. He was a good agent but goofed off more than he should and claimed to think better with his eyes closed. Her Dad spoke of Tony with an odd mixture of annoyance and affection almost undetectable beneath the gruff exterior.

"Tony, you should be working. Gibbs is gonna flip if he sees you like this," McGee warned from his desk, slightly scared himself.

"Calm down, McWorry Wart. Got all the details up here," Tony yawned gesturing lazily to his head.

"You had better, DiNozzo," Gibbs said making Tony jump as he strolled back into the bullpen.

Tony sat up ramrod straight and rattled off his findings. "We interviewed the families, Boss. None of them had heard their sons mention any of the other victims before. McGeek ran their backgrounds and couldn't find any similar schools of enrollment. All the men are from different cities and states as well. Joined the military right out of high school. Banks and Andrews were in the Marine Corps but stationed across the country from each other. The Army guys, Daniels and Johnson, were also in different companies. Only thing they have in common now is that they all live in DC."

"Ziva?"

"Ducky thinks that the suspect attacked these men using a fighting style consistent with the armed forces."

"So he's a service member too," Gibbs mumbled. "McGee check the system for any and all servicemen not currently deployed."

"Those are wide parameters, Boss."

"Cross that with anyone that may have been recently dishonorably discharged in the last few months," Frost added. "Someone that may have been pulled from deployment recently."

"Discharged?" Gibbs asked looking towards Kelly.

"Yeah, he didn't just start doing this for no reason. There was a trigger of some kind. I think he was either dropped from military or discharged because of a personal issue."

"Okay I have 10 results."

"McGee, Ziva, Tony find those ten people and interview 'em. I wanna know where they hell they all were when these men when were killed," Gibbs ordered. The team scrambled up, packed their things, and headed out the door.

Hollis strolled down the hall and found Frost and Gibbs talking with each other standing closer than she would have liked. Something he said made her laugh and push him playfully. The intimacy of it all made her burn with curiosity. She had tried extracting information from the Director about Gibbs and the new agent since she always seem to take pride in knowing something Mann didn't. She had placed her pride to the side in order to make the inquiry but in had all been in vain because Jenny had been just as out of the loop. _You'll find, Colonel Mann, that Gibbs is a man of more questions than answers,_ she had said failing to keep the slight tinge of bitterness out of her voice.

"Still looking for your serial killer?," Mann asked the two.

"Are _you_ not, Hol? Gibbs asked facing her.

"No, while you all were running those possibilities, CID managed to hunt down a terrorist bunker with a similar signature. We may have our killer."

"Oh?" Frost asked looking as though she didn't really believe her.

"Yes, in fact, the men have all been arrested and brought into custody. Thought I'd grant NCIS the courtesy of allowing them to interrogate them with us. Taking a secondary position of course."

Gibbs looked at Hollis suspiciously. He didn't doubt she did her damnedest to bring the men to justice, it was just that his gut was churning. This was all wrapping up too nicely and he had a feeling that they had the wrong group. But he needed to follow any and all leads to prove it.

"Alright, lead the way."

Kelly grabbed Gibbs' arm to stop and whispered low enough so Mann couldn't hear, "Dad our killer is going to kill again _today._ If she's wrong we'll lose another soldier."

Mann was tired of all the hushed conversations between the two.

"Special Agent Frost, I suspected you may have a problem with my findings. I, and CID, are ordering you to stand down until further notice. Your director is being cooperative and believes we have our guy. It would behoove you to not interfere."

Gibbs eyed Mann for a moment. This was all coming out of left field. At what point did Hollis find the time to investigate and arrest this entire bunker? She railed in to him about not being transparent, on a personal and professional he might add, and now she does an entire takedown without telling him. He agreed something was off, but Mann had manhandled the jurisdiction. CID and Homeland Security would be circling this vultures around this and they didn't have a choice but to cooperate. He didn't want Kelly getting herself in a mess with Homeland if she decided to be rebellious. And deviation from orders on his part would have Jenny and SecNav down his throat. More than usual, anyway. If they wanted to stay on this case they would have to play by their rules.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know, Kels," he sighed.

Director Shepard chose that moment to walk around the corner noticing the gathering. "I hear a congratulations is in order," she said smiling. "I must say I am impressed. Hasn't even been," she checked her wristwatch, "3 hours and already we have a viable lead. CID is anticipating an official arrest."

"Seems a bit premature," Kelly replied.

"Well the group was killing so rapidly, we needed to move faster if we wanted to get ahead," Mann said proudly. "I'm just glad we were able to catch them before they struck again. Special Agent guessed they would strike again this afternoon."

Kelly narrowed eyes ever so slightly at her slight stress on the word "guessed."

"This group has been on the radar for awhile and the government is ready to have this taken care of. How exactly did you connect the two?," the Director asked.

Mann squared her shoulders, "Similar MO, same signature on scene, but in recent months they've scaled down a bit. We have reason to believe their supplier has dried up. They were tight for cash but still had a mission to carry out."

"And that led them to their victims?"

"We think so. Large scale attacks are expensive and take quite a bit man power to carry out. They were low on both so up close and personal has become their tactic ever since."

The director considered this for a moment, nodding her head. "I see. Has Abby been able to corroborate this with physical evidence?"

"Not yet, but the we all but got a full confession on scene. My men are working on the group. They're turning on each other and, with the right deal, we may be able wrap this up seamlessly . One has already admitted to future larger scale attack on a military base."

Mann looked at Kelly as she said the last sentence to drive her earlier stance home. Just because they hadn't started with it didn't mean they never intended to. Kelly wasn't convinced and something told her this pathway laid out in front of them was all too convenient. If she was right, the unsub had paved a yellow brick road for them to follow that lead them in the opposite direction. Worst part was she couldn't prove it. All she had was the niggling feeling that told her so, but her spidey senses, as Morgan had once called them, weren't evidence

Mann glanced at Kelly looking satisfied with herself but tried to hide it with a mask of serenity. She lead Gibbs down the stairs to the interrogation room leaving Kelly in the bullpen alone.

##########

Kelly hadn't eaten all day so she figured she'd pick up some lunch and a much needed smoothie and go see if Ducky wouldn't mind having some company. Her father and Mann were still combing through the bunker roster, and with nothing else to do, thanks to Mann's strong arming , she decided she could use some pleasant company.

Autopsy was easy enough to find, resting just above the ground level of the NCIS building. She peeked inside to see Ducky milling about alone cleaning up the tables and pushing the bodies into storage.

The doors slid open and Kelly strolled in feeling lighter already.

"Hey, Ducky."

Ducky turned at the sound of her voice and looked up delighted to see Kelly standing by his desk with a bag sipping at one of her famous smoothies.

"Ms. Kelly, how are you? It's been _too_ long," he smiled and embraced the young warmly. "I was wondering when you come visit. Your father told me you were here but I expected an earlier visit."

Kelly giggled at the gentle chastisement, "Sorry. The case has kept me upstairs all day."

"I imagine it has. Come sit my dear, you must be exhausted."

Kelly sat relieved to finally relax for once today. "I brought lunch for you and I. Figured you might be the only not up your ears in work right now."

Ducky sat across from her and started up some tea on the kettle for them to share over their meal. "I do believe that makes me indebted to you for two meals, my dear."

"There no debts kept among friends," Kelly insisted. Her father and his rules had rubbed off on her and she decided through the years that this was one of hers.

Ducky smiled warmly at the young girl. The tea finally came to a boil as Kelly finished arranging the dishes."

"Spicy or mild, Doctor?"

"Mild, if you don't mind. I have left my vice for spicy food in my youth. In fact, it was India I believe that my dance with the forbidden spices began…"

Kelly laughed as he launched into a story about his youth and the bout of acid reflux he had endured for years to follow.

"...I imagine everything upstairs has been more exciting than down here."

"A lot has happened in a short time, but I'm afraid I missed out on all the fun."

"Are you not hear to lead said fun?"

"I was until _someone_ took over and slipped from under me. The powers that be are afraid we have a terrorist on our hands."

Ducky furrowed his brows while sipping from his teacup, "That doesn't sound right. I've seen a lot of terror act victims in my time, but none so personal. They tend to go for the cold impersonal kill, specifically in larger numbers at once."

"That is what I told them, but G.I. Jane seems to think profiling is crack science. Now they're upstairs interviewing a terror bunker."

"G.I. Jane…." He said trying to hide his chuckle. Kelly may be an accomplished agent but she had rather amusing moments that showed her age. He cleared his throat and continued, "Unfortunately, my dear, there are people who don't care for what we do. Trust your instincts, they've gotten you this far. And don't allow Mann to cloud your judgement. She's just trying to do her job, even if may lead her in the wrong direction."

"Maybe I'm just being sensitive. But it seems like more than that at times. Like she's determined to prove me wrong or something."

"Well, ever since 9/11 there has been pressure to crack down on all terror threats, foreign and domestic. Perhaps she's succumbing to pressure from above," Ducky said ever the diplomat.

"Perhaps but she's making the wrong decision. You've seen the bodies first hand and you don't think so either."

"No. No, I don't but I'm not an agent. I can only provide you all with information to guide you."

The glass doors whooshed open to reveal Ziva walking in to autopsy looking rather exhausted.

"Ah, Ziva! What can I help you with?"

Ziva stopped short when she saw Kelly sitting with Ducky. "Oh, I am sorry, Doctor. I did not mean to intrude."

Kelly stopped her before she could leave, "You don't have go, Ziva. We were just having sandwiches and tea. I have plenty. Please join us."

"Oh I- well that is very kind of you. Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes my darling. Do sit. We were just discussing the case."

Ziva pulled a chair from the other table across the room and pulled up where the young FBI agent had arranged a sandwich of cup tea for her on the small table Ducky used as a desk.

"I'm sorry with everything going on this morning I never had a chance to introduce myself. I'm Frost," Kelly said offering her hand that Ziva shook warmly.

"Ziva David."

"Nice to finally meet you," Kelly smiled. She had, of course, heard of and knew about Ziva. Her father had left her in Mexico to save the Israeli agent from being framed. Ziva was Mossad and had quite the reputation in the spy world. Kelly was familiar with her work long before she joined NCIS. She respected her from afar and secretly hoped to befriend the agent who she shared a birthday month with.

"Finally?" Ziva asked not missing the implication that rose her defenses slightly.

Kelly knew better than to out herself as a spy or tell Ziva she knew she was Mossad. While Ziva being Mossad was public knowledge among federal agents, it would come across suspiciously. Anyone that had ever worked covert ops knew the dangers of outing someone, but in this case it seemed like bad manners.

"Gibbs has mentioned you before," she said simply.

"How long have you know Gibbs?," Ziva asked conversationally nibbling at a piece of her sandwich. She and the rest of the team had been trying to figure out how Gibbs so obviously knew the agent and for how long. As She and Tony remembered on the way to interviewing family members of the victims that she looked awfully similar to the woman they had seen Gibbs on a "date" with. Tony was positively giddy as what he called a potential trainwreck of Frost, Jenny, and Mann being around each other at once convinced Frost was Gibbs' new plaything. She had bet Tony $50 that Frost wasn't Gibbs' type and there was nothing romantic there. But Tony swore up and down that his Boss was due for a midlife crisis and interest in younger women, fast cars, and colonoscopies were the universal combo for that age. Of course McGee was staying out of it, but secretly sided with Ziva.

Ziva was digging without giving much away, but Kelly knew better and remained vague.

"Oh, we go way back," Kelly smiled.

"Way back where?" Ziva asked confused.

Kelly looked over at Ziva oddly until she remembered what her father had told her about Ziva which meant the American expression had probably gone over her head.

"She means they've known each other for awhile, Ziva," Ducky said clarifying without giving anything away.

"Ah, my apologies. My coworkers often say that I get lost in translation."

"No worries. I understand. I've had to learn more than my fair share of languages. I took everything so literally my colleagues thought I had no sense of humor. Or that I was an idiot."

Ziva laughed, "It is good to meet someone that understands."

"Is everyone upstairs finished, Ziva?," Ducky asked.

"Mostly. Colonel Mann is insistent on CID handling the majority of the interrogations. Of course, Gibbs is an exception to this and has been allowed in. Apparently CID has been waiting to tie this group to something for years. If they can, the Colonel no doubt has something to gain from such a victory. "

"Mmm, well I guess all we can do is wait then," Ducky sighed.

"I don't think we'll be waiting long," Kelly said tossing her food and sipping her tea.

Ziva looked at Frost catching the odd tone of her voice."What do you mean?"

Frost didn't answer. She didn't have to. At that moment, DiNozzo came through the doors of autopsy and announced, "We've got another body."

"Every killer has a timeline." Kelly glanced at her phone's clock, "And ours is right on schedule."

"Oh, dear," Ducky breathed. "Good thing I cleaned up."

#####

Frost, Gibbs, Mann, and the rest of the team stared at the savagely beaten and stabbed body of Staff Sergeant Miller in his backyard. The Staff Sergeant's home _had_ been broken into and the house was a mess. The unsub had and fought him throughout the house and ended the fight outside, never giving the man a chance to make break for his gun in his office drawer.

Mann stared the body with a tighten jaw, not looking forward to the conversation she would have with her boss who was celebrating the downfall of their terrorist group.

"How could this happen?," she asked grimly. "They admitted to it. We had them."

Gibbs grunted,"All we got were a bunch of amateurs looking for a headline." Gibbs had realized early on that the group Mann managed to catch weren't the killers. Hell, they weren't even the terrorist group CID had been chasing. Just some copycats all looking for accolade and because CID had never been able to identify the exact members involved in the real group, it was too easy to slip in and take credit."

"God, if only there were a way to anticipate the actions of suspects and eliminate the alternatives before they killed again. Darn shame," Kelly bit out sarcastically.

"Boss, we've got two bodies. Wife was hiding upstairs, " McGee said coming down the stairs

"Like I said _cryin shame."_

"You seem uncharacteristically resigned. Don't tell me you're folding now," Ducky said from his squatting position on the ground next to the body.

"Oh, I'm not. But he is. This was his last victim."

"How do you know?," Gibbs said deferring to her judgement. She'd been right so far.

"I'm going to have to agree with her. The disarray of the home suggests a more drawn out fight than the previous victims. While the others had taken quite the beating as well, this man is near unidentifiable. I'm going to need dental records to confirm the poor lad. This was the final showdown, if you will," Ducky added.

"What's a guy with tendencies of a serial killer doing in the military anyway? Wonder how he made it past the psych exams.." DiNozzo mumbled thinking out loud more than anything.

"It's called sublimation. People with the propensity towards murder and violence often look for socially acceptable outlets for it. Recruitment offices are teeming with people that want to join for all the wrong reasons. They usually get weeded out but our unsub is smart, charismatic, and manipulative enough to slip through the cracks. He'd know what answers they'd be looking for."

"We ran through the list of dishonorable discharges and got nothing. Everyone on it either has an alibi or was out of town."

"What about honorable? What if the suspect feels wronged in some way? Being relieved of his duties under any circumstances would be a trigger. He joined for the action, not to live off benefits for the rest of his life," Kelly replied.

"That'd take hours.." McGee began.

"This bastard hunted down a Staff Sergeant and his wife like animals in their own home. We don't have hours, Tim," Gibbs snapped.

Kelly saw McGee cowering and decided to steer Gibbs' attention away from him, "Do you still have access to the homes of the previous victims? I want to analyse their homes for any connections."

"I'll come with you," Mann said speaking up for the first time. "I feel responsible and if you don't mind I'd like to help bring this man to justice."

Kelly shared a look with Gibbs who nodded his encouragement. "Alright, let's go."

The rest of the team was off to find any additional leads while Gibbs headed to MTAC for a meeting. Kelly winced knowing he was getting chewed out even despite everyone being told to stand down to pursue the terrorist angle. The government didn't like being played for the fool and those idiotic copycats would soon learn that.

Mann and Kelly had a silent agreement not to mention the last few hours. Kelly had gotten her dig in and didn't have the desire to rub it in further which Mann appreciated. They were on the third house and so far hadn't found anything to connect the men. As a precautionary measure, Kelly collected all their fresh mail to look through when they got back to bullpen just in case.

The day was beginning to end and Mann was driving to the final home, Private Banks, while Kelly sorted through the mail.

"Find anything good yet?"

"I might have, but I'm not sure."

"Well, no detail is too small. Let me hear it."

"I may have found the common thread, but I won't know for sure until we check Banks' house."

"From their mail?"

"Yeah, the men definitely knew each other. They kept in contact through letters and postcards. Who still does that?"

"Lots of people. But that explains why McGee couldn't find anything in their phone records."

"Or a definitive paper trail. Some of this mail has been forwarded around a bit. Make sense since they're military. I think they all went to a summer camp of some kind together. The letters have a childish stamp on them that says "Camp Thunderbird" under the coat of arms. They even call each other by code names never using their actual ones."

"That happens in summer camp sometimes. Kids get nicknames they can't shake and they're never known as anything else to their camp friends."

"People in camp call each other things like "Clock" and "General"?" The names were weird and didn't make any sense

Mann laughed, "Yeah. You know, you get them because of some defining characteristic or something embarrassing they won't let you live down. Adolescent boys are a strange group."

"I'll say.."

"What you never went to overnight summer camp as a kid? Or ever get a nickname you couldn't shake?"

Kelly had never been to overnight camp as kid. Her father saw a documentary once on predators at summer camps that dashed any hope of her making that milestone even though she had dreamed of it since watching The Parent Trap. But she knew all too well what it was like to have a nickname you didn't choose. Admittedly, Frost was easier to swallow than toilet head.

"I see your point."

"If the guys went to an overnight camp in the woods, I'm not surprised we couldn't find records of any related enrollment. Most of those records are by hand. No internet reception is apart of the appeal of camping."

"Well according to this, our killer goes by Twitch to his camp friends. We're on the right track with the discharge theory. Johnson tells Andrews he's worried about Twitch. 'Honor code was everything to Twitch. To him, we're all traitors under the Scout's Honor. We were in this together, and we should have left together,'" Kelly recited from the letter.

"The honor code? Don't remember camps having honor codes more serious than the golden rule."

"Regular camps don't but boy scouts do. There's always a sizable amount of people in the military that were boy scouts as kids. What if these men had a sub code that joined them? Like they all made some pact to join the military when they were old enough."

"Maybe when Twitch got discharged, he wanted everyone else out too."

"According to their letters, they turned him down which makes sense. Last time I checked you couldn't just quit the force."

"No you can't, but that probably didn't matter to him. He didn't care what it cost them," Mann stated pulling into the driveway of Banks' home. The home fit in with the others. It was old and had bars blocking the windows. It wasn't in the best part of town so the bars were likely a security measure. Kelly stepped out of the car and headed for the mailbox on the side of his home finding a similar letter from the other victims. Kelly looked towards the car where Mann was just stepping out and held up the letter, "Got it."

Mann walked up the steps and peered over her shoulder. "Same idea. Sounds like our boy got dropped under vague circumstances. Something to do with his deployment. Corps couldn't prove his guilt or innocence so someone took pity and let him go."

"They never talked about the deaths of the others."

"He acted pretty quickly and interwove the deaths of the other non-soldiers. Besides the men were so distantly in contact, it would take awhile for them to know anything about each others deaths."

"Yeah, true."

Kelly had the feeling they were being watched and looked over in the next door neighbor's yard to see a man in long sleeves and pants glancing at them while watering the lawn. "The letter says Banks was expecting Twitch for a few nights, think the neighbors saw anyone that may have been in and out of the house? Maybe get a description?"

"Worth a shot."

Kelly and Mann crossed the lawn and knocked on the door of the man who had scampered inside shyly when they caught him staring. The man who opened the door was about 6'2 and lean though his hunch, a side of effect of insecurity, disguised his height. He was obviously flustered about being approached and blushed profusely when he meet their stare.

"Good afternoon, Sir. Can we have some of your time?," Mann asked politely, being considerate of nervous demeanor.

"S-sure. What c-can I do for you ladies?" He asked pushing his glasses up that had slipped down his nose, closer to his face.

Once Mann identified herself and Frost, she asked the Mann if he had seen anyone frequenting the house next door in the past couple of weeks.

"N-no, people tend to steer clear of this neighborhood. The Private was the...well private type. Didn't really know the guy very w-well. Didn't have a lot of visitors either."

Kelly tuned them out and peeked inside. The man kept a tidy house. She'd guess everything was from IKEA since it was all pretty basic and practical. The only decorations he had was a few pictures on the table next the door.

"Alright. Well if you can remember anything, anything at all, call us. Thank you for your time, Sir." The man took the proffered card from Mann and quietly shut the door.

"Well, I guess all we can do is examine those letters and call the camp. Process of elimination should give us a name," Mann decided walking with Kelly back down the stairs.

But Kelly looked as if she had dazed off, staring at nothing in particular.

"Frost? Special Agent Frost? You okay?" Mann waved her hand in front of Kelly's face, a bit confused that usually focused agent seemed to be daydreaming.

"Did you notice the pictures on his table next to the door? He wasn't in any of them. They looked like stock photos. And what kind of person gardens in long sleeves and cargo pants?"

"The kind that wants to work up a sweat."

"Or a person who's trying to cover his wounds after getting into a fight," Kelly stated.

Mann's dawned in realization and the two broke out into a run back towards his house and opened the he hadn't bothered to lock back just in time to see the unsub turn around and face them as he was escaping out the back door and fire a series of shots at them. Kelly grabbed the back of Mann's fatigues and yanked the Colonel back just in time to watch the bullets connect with wall she had been standing in front of.

Mann raced into the house once they stopped barely registering Kelly's warning to stop. As she barrelled into the front of the room she heard a click under her right foot.

The front and back doors slammed shut the room around them ignited in a roaring fire that swallowed the room in seconds. The unsub stared at them through the back door, smiling triumphantly looking markedly different than the insecure, stuttering man from before. As he turned to leave them to burn in the house Kelly aimed her gun through the slits in the railings that barred the windows and fired off two shot at his back. The scream that followed let her know her bullets had connected but that wasn't going to help them escape the house.

"Call Gibbs, let him know where we are and to have someone grab the suspect in case he can still manage running. He won't get far," Kelly ordered.

For once, Mann did what the young agent asked of her without argument. Kelly ran to the kitchen and grabbed some rags, drenching them in cool water to act as a filter against the smoke that was already clouding the room from for their mouth and nose. The fire was already crawling down from the ceiling and consuming the walls and curtains.

She tossed the cool rag at Mann who had just hung the phone and was now kicking at the doors helplessly. They were probably reinforced with metal. Kelly kicked in the vent the hallway and pulled the knife she kept holstered on her leg and cut away at the shiny, meshy layers of the wide A/C tubing, sending up a thanks to God that her short attention span hadn't kicked in when her father had told her she should always keep a knife handy.

"What are you doing?"

"The windows are barred and out of code so there's no emergency latch. Old houses are poorly ventilated the underpart of the house can be reached through A/C vents. Banks' house has a small door that leads out through the bottom."

"So you're assuming that this one has that same door?"

Kelly looked up and smiled through her rag, "Assuming is what I do for a living. Feel free to investigate every other opportunity thoroughly before making a decision. You'll be lucky if the smoke takes you out first."

Old habits proved hard to shake as Mann hesitated before Kelly made the decision for her and shoved her through the barely large enough opening after the ceiling around them begun to give way under the flames. The bottom of the house was a bit of a drop, but the a few scrapes and bruises were a small price to pay for the crawl space that had yet to be saturated with smoke.

On their elbows and knees, the pair just barely made out the dim outline of outside light shining through the crack.

"Crawl forward, Colonel. Try not to kick me in the face while you're at," Kelly screamed swatting her boot away from her face.

Kelly staggered behind the Colonel she crawled efficiently and quickly toward the small door. The crawl space was quickly filling with smoke and she could feel her eyes burn straining to stay open through the thick haze. Kelly prided herself on her stamina , but the smoke was getting heavier on her lungs and slowing her down. Smoke inhalation was a swift killer and they had already been down sniffing it hard for 30 seconds. A small part of her wondered how Mann, a woman 3 times her age, was faring better.

Mann managed to reach the door that Kelly guessed would be there and punched at the door and popping the latch.

"You were right, Frost."

Kelly choked out a violent cough into her rag. "Usually am."

From the outside they could hear a cacophony of familiar voices and what Kelly would recognize anywhere as her father's barking voice.

"Gibbs over here!," Mann yelled, gasping at the air and trying to escape out the small crawl space trying to escape through the small holding. Gibbs sprinted toward them and wrangled Mann out the small hole barely allowing her to get fully out before demanding, "Where's Kelly?

Mann assumed that was Frost's first name, "Behind me." She scrambled back toward the door and reached in only to have a large chunk of burning debris fall on her hand, blocking her from Kelly.

"Damn it!" She screamed cradling her hand. She barely had time to react before Gibbs was moving her out of the way and tearing frantically at the wood around the door with no regard for the flames around his hands.

Kelly barely managed to dodge and roll out the way of the section of the house that nearly fell on top of her. The smoke that had surrounded her before was choking her and she was fighting to keep her self conscious enough to kick at the loose wooden walling incasing the bottom of the house.

Mann had managed to get out but the exit she had used was now blocked and Kelly knew she was running out of time when the black spot in her vision weren't just because of the dark smog. She was wheezing and her kicks to the wall was getting weaker by the second. The flames next to her licking at her clothes and skin burning her to attention was the only thing keeping her alert. She was running out of breath and the panic she had been suppressing was taking her under. She had never thought much about her death since leaving the Institute, but she realized now that this very well might be it. She was calm about death, but hated the suffering and panic that accompanied this one. She may not care about dying but she hated to think of what it would do to her Dad. He had made her promise that he wouldn't ever have to bury her again.

 _I'm really sorry, Dad._

 ** _ _A/N: Okay so this is random. I made Ziva and Kelly's birthday the same month because apparently that's cannon. They're like a day or so apart and would have been around the same age had she survived. But Kelly's military ID says August 15, but Ziva admits to being a Scorpio in one episode, which fits with her personality I think. August would have made them both Leos. So I'm making their birthdays around October-November. Me being a Scorpio too was the tie breaker :)__**


	14. Chapter 14

**Authors Note: I just really wanted to thank the everyone that has followed and favorited this story, especially the 3 or so people that make a habit of reviewing every time I upload a chapter. It means a lot to me and even when I don't always feel like writing knowing you guys are waiting on an update pushes me forward in the best way. As always, this is for you :) Next chapter will be much faster. Even faster if you leave me a review...**

 _I'm really sorry, Dad._

Just as the darkness was swallowing her, she heard the sound of wood breaking and snapping as light started pouring in, and cutting through the smoke. She braced herself for the house to give way underneath her. That would be faster than suffocating, at least. She really didn't want to die like this. Not in front of him anyway. That wasn't fair.

"Kelly! Kelly Marie!"She heard him slam the side of the house with what sounded like his fist. "Damn it, Kelly, answer me now!"

He was pissed. He usually expressed concern and fear by lashing out at people and Kelly had never been an exception. If anything, she brought it out in full force.

The other side of pocket of crawl space she had been trapped in, collapsed around her surrounding her in flames like a coffin in hell. Before she could stifle it, a scream ripped out of her throat in shock as she covered her face from the unbearable heat of the flames around her.

The scream Kelly let out reverberated throughout Gibbs body and shook him to his core. He began desperately tearing at burning material pushing aside the flames engulfed section of the house that had nearly crushed her just after Hollis had crawled out. Mann watched stunned as Gibbs ripped through the thick wood like a madman and snapped it like they were made of paper mache. The experienced carpenter would usually use tools for such a job but the planks snapped effortlessly beneath in his rage.

Hollis desperately pushed the wood and debris out of his way to make room for when he pulled her out. She was feeling utterly useless and was desperate to do something to be helpful.

She had to believe that he would find her, the house wasn't sturdy and with every passing second, the odds got worse for Frost. The smoke inhalation, as Frost had put it not just 3 minutes ago, was the real threat here. Assuming the she hadn't already been engulfed in flames.

His mind was a mess, swirling panic and fear made it impossible to register anything else around him. A small part of Gibbs felt his skin scream in pain as the wood and brick shards tore and scratched at his knuckles and the fire stung his hands. He couldn't think of anything but getting his daughter out from under the burning house. His heart beat frantically in his chest and deafened his ears as he tore at the burning debris around walling searching desperately for any signs for her.

 _He couldn't lose her again. He wouldn't. He wouldn't recover._

Just as he was about to throw his own body under the house and dive in to the ocean of flames after her, he felt her legs kicking weakly at the arm he had extended under the house and his heart leaped. _She was still alive_

Gibbs tore off his sport coat and threw it under the house in the direction of her face to protect her from the flames and falling material. With one rough tug, he snatched his daughter from under the house and pulled her across the lawn away from the house. Gibbs tore the coat from her face and pulled her into his arms. Her face was covered in dark soot, and the ash that coated her hair was as grey as her own. She was unconscious and not breathing.

Hollis gasped, frozen next to him at the sight of the young girl. Her black pant suit had been charred around her arms and legs exposing patches of her reddened skin.

"Kelly, Kelly sweetheart, open your eyes," Gibbs pleaded wiping at her face gently to remove the layer of soot and dust from her face. Her cheeks were hot to the touch and bits of her hair had been burned. Gibbs could feel his vision blurring as she lay unresponsive cradled in his arms. If losing her the first time had been crippling, he didn't know what he would do if she were to die this time in his arms where she should be the safest. He already felt his sanity slipping from him as he held her still form in his arms. Thinking quickly and swallowing the panic attack he felt looming over him, Gibbs carefully laid Kelly on the patchy ground. He took a deep breath and pulled Kelly's jaw loose and forced a gust of air into her mouth with his own and applied chest compressions repeatedly.

"C'mon, Kelly. C'mon, sweetie, don't give up. Not letting you give up on me."

 _Please don't take her away from me again, not again._

"Jethro!"

"Over here, Duck," Jethro yelled toward the ME who had just arrived on the scene. He had never been so happy to see his best friend in his life.

Ducky rushed over surprisingly fast for someone his age with Palmer in tow, juggling medical supplies. "Good God, Kelly."

"How long was she under?," He asked assessing the situation quickly.

"Three minutes tops," Mann piped in, finally finding her voice. "She was kicking and screaming up until Gibbs pulled her from the under the house."

Ducky assembled the transportable oxygen machine and strapped it over Kelly's face. He made quick work of the machine and adjusted the settings that would administer oxygen into her lungs and pump out the carbon monoxide from the smoke. He silently directed Gibbs to continue his compressions.

Gibbs was trying desperately to keep his breathing under control, trying to desperately not succumb to his own panic for Kelly's sake. He couldn't have have an attack right now, he hadn't had one for years. He was trained to focus under pressure and channel his fear and make use of it. He was good at it and never wavered. But right now he couldn't think straight, the fear of losing his child again was constricting his heart to a near paralyzing degree. He wouldn't give up on her. He had lost her once, had blamed himself for years convinced that had he been there he could have protected her and her mother from the crash that took them away from him. He'd be damned he allowed her to be taken from him again. He pressed her chest a little harder willing her to breathe. He mumbled a silent prayer to the God he had given up on to spare her life, to take his sorry ass instead. Anything to get her breathing again.

The choking cough that forced its way up Kelly's throat made his heart stop and his hands freeze their insistent pumping. Jethro swore he had never seen something so beautiful as the baby blue irises that fluttered open and stared at him. Kelly gasped for air as she was pulled from the darkness that had swallowed her whole, not quite able to catch her breath.

"Kelly.." Gibbs breathed, near weak with relief.

"Sit her up slowly Jethro. We want the oxygen to circulate through her body fully," Ducky instructed.

Gibbs gently pulled Kelly into a sitting position in his lap. Her body sagged against his chest as she coughed and wheezed for air. Each shake of her body made some of the soot and ash fall from her hair.

"Can't-Can't-," She barely managed to wheeze waving her hand in front of her throat. Her lungs were burning and she couldn't quite grasp the air pushing down her throat. The feeling was oddly familiar, yet not. Something she had experienced in another life. She looked into her father's eyes pleading for him to help her, to alleviate the pressure in her lungs.

"Duck, what's wrong? Why can't she breathe?" Gibbs barked feeling angry all over again.

Ducky noticed the action immediately and dread filled him noting the struggled wheeze, "Kelly. Kelly, look at me. Do you have asthma?"

Kelly continued gasping weakly and stared at him dazedly but managed to shake her head.

"Used to. Doctor said she'd grow out of it," Gibbs said recalling the buried memory and kicked himself for not remembering this earlier.

"Her airways are closing on her. Mr. Palmer, where is that bloody ambulance?" Ducky demanded sounding panicked for the first time that day. She would need emergency attention to soothe the inflammation in her lungs. There was nothing he on hand to keep her airways open. She needed immediate medical care. They had saved her from one crisis only to be pulled into another.

"I'll go look for them and call," Mann struggled to her feet and circled to the front.

"I called them on the way here, Doctor. But I have asthma too, I have an inhaler with me. I don't know how helpful that is or what her dosage is but-"

Gibbs snatched the inhaler from Palmer had pulled from his pocket and brought the device to Kelly's mouth. Gibbs quickly recited the instructions the doctor had told him all those years ago on how to use her inhaler.

Kelly did her best to do as her father instructed and inhaled medicine willing it to open her airways. After a few more pumps, she felt her lungs relax and push oxygen into her chest. Her red rimmed vision started to clear and relaxed the muscles in her chest and back. The relief, however, brought on a harsh coughing fit. Ducky quickly offered her his handkerchief, knowing she'd be coughing up the mucus that had accumulated in her lungs in reaction to the smoke. Gibbs rubbed soothing circles against Kelly back and murmured soothing words in her ear as she curled into him coughing helplessly. It felt like torture and made her eyes water. She was on the edge of nearly gagging on the disgusting slime in her throat that forced its way upward and out into the proffered napkin. It took a minute for the fit to subside and her breathing to return to normal. The exertion had worn her out, even sitting up was too much and she allowed herself to curl into the comforting arms around her.

"Better?" Gibbs mumbled gently brushing her hair from her face.

Kelly nodded not wanting to spark yet another fit. He dropped a grateful kiss on her ashened hair.

"May I see the handkerchief, Kelly?"

Kelly scrunched her face at him and blushed. Ducky chuckled gently at her sheepish expression, "Not to worry, darling. I need to check the color to do a preliminary on check the severity of your condition."

Kelly handed over the soiled cloth and leaned in further into her father's encircled arms still feeling a bit embarrassed.

Ducky breathed a sigh of relief at finding the color clear rather than a darker hue that would no doubt point towards a long term or life threatening state. Ducky looked into the still distressed eyes of long time friend with a smile and breathed, "She'll survive."

Gibbs closed his eyes, collapsing against the fence and allowed the relief to wash over him like a waterfall. The tears he always kept locked inside flowed freely down his cheeks. His hands shook, weak from exertion and the emotions he had been trying to hold back the whole way here and throughout the rescue. He held his daughter as tight as he could without hurting her. Once again his friend had come to the rescue, this time saving the most important person in his life. "Duck, I.." He trailed off. He was never good with words and if he were. they weren't enough to thank the elder man in front of him. But like all those times before when Ducky had saved his sorry ass, they communicated a lifetime of thank yous with a single look.

Gibbs turned to Ducky's protege who had supplied the inhaler who no doubt without it, Kelly may not even have made it long enough for the medics arrival. He usually ignored the young, stuttering man that seemed to always stay too much at the wrong time. He was the antithesis of Gibb who never said enough. But today he had finally earned Gibbs' respect. "Thank you...Jimmy."

Palmer blossomed at the compliment and the use of his first name, "Anything to help." He chirped innocently. Jimmy admired the stoic agent even if he did scare him. He frequently floundered and awkwardly danced around Gibbs who always seemed to just barely tolerate his presence, when he wasn't completely ignoring him that is. But today he had done good.

The sound of the ambulance and firetruck sirens broke the air around them. It felt like they had waited hours for them to arrive when everything had transpired within the span of about 10 minutes.

"About bloody time," Ducky grumbled standing up to meet the paramedics and check on Hollis who Gibbs had forgotten all about.

Gibbs had to get Kelly to the hospital and get her checked out. He looked down at her curled contentedly in arms seeming all too at peace as he stroked her hair soothingly

Kelly head suddenly snapped up. "Dad, the guy. I shot him he was in the backyard, we have to get him…," she hoarse out trying to scramble out of his arms weakly. She had been so distracted with the fire she had almost forgotten him completely. Gibbs tightened his hold on his daughter and stilled her movements.

"The team got 'im already. Wouldn't matter if they hadn't anyway," he said managing to muster the last bits of adrenaline to stand with her still in his arms and carry her towards the paramedics that were already rushing in their direction. _To hell with the man at this point,_ he thought. Gibbs laid Kelly on the stretcher the EMTs had pushed through the grassy yard and helped them strap her in. Gibbs knew Kelly hated hospitals, he could see the irritation and dread brewing in her eyes but she smartly kept from protesting. She was going whether she liked it or not.

Gibbs pressed a gentle kiss on her ash streaked cheeks and followed them closely intent on riding in the truck as well. From the corner of his eye, he managed to see the Ducky fighting a losing battle with Hollis over trying to convince her to get checked out. The other truck held their suspect who had been handcuffed to the stretcher and carted away. Kelly had managed to shatter the bastards spine in two places during the fray with her marksman skills. If he survived, he'd never walk again Ducky had said. Gibbs scoffed and hoped he would survive. Between the dead servicemen and the bastard trying to kill his kid, Gibbs would personally make sure the scumbag burned.

xxxxxx

"I understand your concern, Sir, but I can't just let you in. Only family has access and you're not her supervisor," the dark haired nurse insisted. The last thing Gibbs needed right now was a by the book nurse trying to stand between he and his daughter. They had been separated upon arrival and Gibbs had roughly shooed off anyone that had tried to help him with his own wounds.

"She is my _daughter_ ," Gibbs growled.

"You don't have the same surnames. That's a mismatch of records and-"

"What do want me to do? Pull her birth certificate and show my dang signature on it?" At this point Gibbs was nearly yelling at the young woman. Kelly wasn't even born in DC and pulling her file would have been more complicated since she had been dead for the past 8 years and he had no idea what was even on the document she had now.

"Well, anyone could come here claiming a relationship so verifiable documents would be a helpful.." His nerves were frayed and she was keeping him from his only child that had promptly struggled to breath once again when they arrived at the hospital.

Ducky chose the save the poor girl from the wrath of the senior agent by choosing this moment to speak up. "Nurse, I am the ME that treated Agent Frost on scene. Perhaps you would allow to speak to the physician in charge?"

The nurse's expression softened at Ducky's much more gentle approach, "Fine, but he's just gonna tell you the same thing I did…"

"Call the damn doctor would ya?" Gibbs practically shouted. He had never been a paragon of patience and today he didn't even know what the word meant.

"Special Agent Gibbs?" An older man with brown hair and an understanding smile asked approaching the scene.

Gibbs turned to the doctor and nodded tersely and the doctor chuckled in response to the brusque manner he had been warned about. "Special Agent Frost sent me to find you. She said you'd probably be making a scene by this point. I'm Dr. Fields."

"How is she?," Gibbs asked wasting no time. Ducky said she'd be fine but he needed more than a preliminary diagnosis to put his mind at ease. He needed to know for himself that he wasn't suddenly going to lose her to a coughing fit.

"She's suffering from smoke inhalation, small first degree burns and second degree burns on her arms and legs, and a pavement burn on her thigh. We've treated and dressed the burns. The amount of time she spent under was concerning but it seemed like she managed to prevent any real damage. Either way, I am keeping her here under observation overnight. She's young and healthy, so I don't anticipate any long term damage.

"And her asthma?"

"She's got really mild case of it so I'm not surprised it was never an issue until now. I'm writing her a prescription for an inhaler just incase. She'll probably never need it but in her line of work, better safe than sorry."

"Thank you, Doctor. Can I see her?"

"Yeah, room 107."

The doctor walked off to see his other patients while Ducky opted to check in on their killer's condition and give Gibbs some privacy.

Kelly's had a private room to herself with a view of the park just across the street. Her doctor had put her at ease and had even made her laugh. She didn't really warm up to people easily, but he had managed to at least make her comfortable. Because Kelly was still a minor, her doctor was a pediatrician that came armed with lollipops and humor. She had seen the worse the world had to offer and infiltrated top secret facilities, but even she could be disarmed with a good sour apple lollipop.

She had worried momentarily about being asked questions regarding her age and work, but he had caught the guarded look in her eyes when he questioned her about her injuries. He had and assured her that he had lived in DC long enough to know not to ask too many questions and that he only needed to know enough to treat her.

The door to her room clicked and she looked over expectantly to see her father sans his usual blazer that had mostly likely been left behind at the crime scene. Gibbs gave Kelly a once over and noted that she had been washed clean of any ash and her hair had been braided back and was slightly damp. She was sitting up, propped by the bed and her copious pillows. When the door opened she turned to face him and her eyes lit up.

"Daddy!," she croaked happily. The nurses and doctors were nice, but they were still strangers and she hated being touched and prodded at by people she didn't know. And on top of all that, her voice made her sound like one of those people on those smoking commercials.

Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief seeing her healthy and at ease. And most importantly- breathing normally.

"Hey, Kels, you feelin' okay?" Gibbs pulled up a chair next to her bed and stroked her hair that had been braided back and out of her face.

"Yeah. My arms and legs sting a bit but they have me on some painkillers. Then they cut me out of my clothes," she said sullenly pulling at the thin, itchy hospital gown with a pout on her lips.

The corner of Gibb's mouth tugged up on one side as he gave her a slight eye roll. She almost died today and all she could think about was the suit she would no longer be able to wear. She glared, "Don't laugh, Dad, that was my favorite and it was _Chanel."_

"Got your boots though," Gibbs pointed out looking at her beloved boots in the corner.

"That's true." Kelly looked at the his hand on her head and her eyes widened at the torn and burned flesh on his hand. "Dad, your hands!"

Gibbs glanced down at his hands finally feeling the burning painful sting of handling those burning chunks of wood. It hurt but it had been the last thing on his mind at the time. Couldn't say he cared much about it now either.

Gibbs shook his head trying dismiss her concern. "Not a big deal."

"You're bleeding."

"Kelly.." He sighed begging her to drop it. He'd just pour some alcohol on it and wrap it when he got home.

"Dad.." She said giving him the glare she got from him. He didn't answer her but instead grabbed her oxygen mask put it back over her face. "Lay down, Kelly. Need your rest."

He did need her getting worked up over nothing and then having a third attack.

"Why are you allowed to ignore your injuries, but I have to lay here like an invalid?"

"Because I'm the parent and I said so," he said firmly leaving no room for argument. But she wouldn't be his daughter if she didn't have to have the last word.

"That's not an answer…" she mumbled petulantly settling back into her pillows. Gibbs ignored her and turned to see Abby peek her head into the room cautiously.

"Gibbs.."

"That was fast."

"I pride myself on my speed and efficiency." Abby walked in the room and held up a duffle bag.

"Owe ya one."

"Never."

Kelly watched her father talk to a woman who was still slightly out of her line of vision just hidden by the wall. Once she walked around the corner, she immediately recognized her as the eccentric forensic scientist her father favored.

Her father turned to her,"Kels, this is Abby. Abs, this my daughter Kelly."

Whenever Gibbs spoke of Kelly his voice took on an impossibly gentle tone Abby wasn't used to hearing from the demanding Marine who only ever spoke to her that way. Abby, as usual, couldn't quite contain her excitement and bounced over to Kelly who looked at Abby blankly staring up at her towering height in her platform boots.

"It's so nice to finally meet you! I mean obviously I never wanted it to be this way, I pictured something more casual and comfortable and not in a hospital where you're covered in bandages and-"

"Abs."

"Sorry, Gibbs. I'm just so excited. I never thought you'd get around to letting me meet the Gibblet." Abby bounced in place on her toes making her pigtails sway.

Kelly blinked at her and asked slowly, "Gibblet?"

"Yeah. Gibb's kid. The littlest Gibbs."

"Abs, ya sure you got everything?" Gibbs asked changing the subject to her the bag in her hands.

"Hm? Oh! Yeah, positive. I checked your text twice."

"Since when do you text?" Kelly turned to him confused. Kelly texted him plenty but he never responded since he was so technologically handicapped, but now he was texting Abby.

"Ya told me to practice."

"I'm shocked."

"Oh here, I'm sure you want your things. Don't worry, I was neat as possible and Gibbs told me where everything was so there was no prying." Abby gently laid the Kelly's black Nike duffle on the bed for her to inspect.

Still confused, Kelly looked in it and realized her toiletries and a set of new pajamas similar to her own were inside including a soft, thick white blanket she had never seen before among some other things. Kelly looked at Abby questioningly holding up the item.

"I got that from the store. It's for tonight."

"Gets cold in the hospital. Sheets here are thin," Gibbs explain gruffly. Gibbs wanted to make sure she was comfortable all night and she wouldn't be unless she had a thick blanket to keep her warm. Abby had gone the extra mile getting her a new one for tonight after insisting that she shouldn't use her personal one since hospitals carried all kinds of bacteria that could follow her home.

The invasion of her personal space made her skin prickle, but the feeling subsided when she looked at her father and he already knew how she was feeling. The loving look in his eyes put her at ease. He trusted Abby completely and without reservation. Kelly didn't believe in trusting someone just because someone close to you did. It was courtesy she only ever extended to her father, and even then it was only easy to allow because it was little things.

"Thank you, Abby. I really appreciate it. And it is nice to meet you finally as well." She said a little stiffer than she intended to but Kelly did appreciate the gesture.

"Anytime. I'll see ya later Gibbs I'm gonna go check on the team."

"They okay?"

"Yeah, Timmy tripped in a pothole in the backyard and said Tony keeps distracting his nurse."

"Smack 'im for me would ya, Abbs?'

"With pleasure." Abby waved to Kelly who smiled back and left the room.

#####

The team was just outside in the lobby waiting for McGee to finish signing his discharge papers sitting in the chairs around a coffee. Abby walked over and obediently slapped Tony across the head.

"Hey!"

"From Gibbs."

"For what?"

"Timmy said-"

"After I practically carried you, which wasn't easy I might add, you get all sensitive and cry to Abby about it, McSnitch?" McGee ignored the dig at his weight and kept scratching grumpily at the papers he was given. The nurse had practically forgotten he was there despite his throbbing ankle and it had put him in a mood.

"You deserved to be ratted out, Tony. Took that nurse an extra hour to treat McGee." Ziva said calmly not looking from the magazine she was browsing.

"Nobody was talking to you, Zee-vah."

"Feeling better, Timmy?," Abby asked sitting next to McGee and stroking his hair.

"I'm fine. Just need some sleep, pills, and keep it elevated."

"Forget, McGoo. How's Agent Frost?" DiNozzo asked. "Heard she got burned pretty bad escaping with the Colonel."

"She's got some bandages on her arms and legs but nothing too terrible. Gibbs is staying the night with her."

A wolfish grin crossed Tony's face "Reallyyyy?" Tim groaned and handed the nurse his papers as she went to grab his prescription papers from the doctors.

"Yeah, of course. He wasn't just gonna leave her here alone all night." Abby said as if were the most obvious thing in the world.

Tony leaned in to Ziva's ear and said,"Someone owes me money. Fifty bucks to be exact."

Ziva swatted the air, "Loyalty, Tony. Some people have it regarding their friends. Besides, Gibbs has the Colonel."

"I'm not sold on that relationship. It a power struggle laced with lust. He lets Frost sit at his desk and tell him what to do. Never thought I'd see the day. "

"I dated this one guy that was typical Alpha male. He liked being bossed by the strong women he dated. Did it for him." Ziva said casually flipping through another magazine.

"I don't wanna know what does it for Gibbs. I can't handle it."

"What are you guys talking about?" Abby asked confused and just a bit put out of being out of the betting loop.

"Tony is convinced Frost is Gibbs' plaything. Or perhaps he hers. He hasn't decided."

"I'm thinking she's calling the shots. Gibbs doesn't strike me as the Sugar Daddy type. Be kinda hard with 3 alimonies if he was anyway…"

Abby blanched, "Jesus, Tony. No."

"What? You think Gibbs is too old or something? Little judgey coming from someone that dated her 60 year old Biology professor. Least Gibbs is still too young to be getting pension checks. She's hot, let the man have some fun."

"No, no Gibbs would never-he's not...Frost isn't..." Abby felt flustered and disgusted rendering her speechless and only managed to wave her hands frantically.

"Spit it out, Abs."

"She means to say that it would be rather incestutous, Tony." Ducky said approaching the agents. He had managed to catch the tail end of their conversation and would have chuckled at their usual gossiping if he hadn't known the truth. Gibbs hadn't sworn him to secrecy about Kelly, but Ducky had skirted around her identity since the two failed to make it plain to everyone else.

"Incestuous? I didn't know Gibbs had any family outside of his father. She like a niece or child of another ex-wife or something?"

"No,Tony, she's his daughter," Abby blurted.

"His daughter? Like a stepdaughter?"

"No, Tony. His real one from his first wife. Frost's actual name is Kelly." Abby explained.

"Kelly? Kelly, _Kelly_? That Kelly?" He sputtered.

"Yeah."

"So wait everything in his file is a lie then."

"No, his first wife has passed, yes, but Kelly didn't. He only just rediscovered her."

"How?"

"Long story."

"What's she been doing this whole time?" McGee asked.

"That, I imagine, is a longer story. One I'm not privy to." Ducky said.

"Wait how did you two know and we didn't?"

"'Cause he told us," Abby chirped.

"When?"

"On my birthday. You know how every year Gibbs takes me out for my birthday to dinner? Well when he came back from Mexico he'd been all chipper, or as chipper as Gibbs could ever be and I asked him why and he told me what happened."

Gibbs had taken Abby out to some trendy restaurant where he tolerated the eccentric food and music for her. It was their tradition and he never missed a year. He had been more attentive than usual and had surprised her with how playful he's been all evening. When Gibbs told her about Kelly she'd been so happy for him, so touched by how he had somewhat choked up when he talked about his daughter she had practically pounced on him in the middle of restaurant squealing her head off and crying at the same time. Of course the people in the restaurant had assumed he had just proposed which made an even bigger scene. Abby took the attention in stride and managed to get a whole free cheesecake from the flamboyant manager who just "loved, loved, loved" how much they didn't allow their age difference to stand in the way of their love. Where Gibbs would have normally been slightly uncomfortable being made the center of attention, he had laughed and saved a piece for Kelly.

"Jethro told me at the office and Kelly invited me over for dinner." Ducky explained.

"Why didn't tell us?" Tony asked. He was the Senior Field Agent after all. He was Gibb's protege and he trusted Tony with the team during his retirement.

"I wouldn't take it personal, Anthony. Gibbs told both of us in rather personal and emotional situations."

Tony was quiet for a moment as was the rest of the team digesting what they had been told. All the signs of a closer relationship were they had just read them wrong. The laughs and touches weren't at all intimate the way Mann's were when she thought the team wasn't looking. There were playful and doting and it explained his easy acceptance of her.

Tony broke the silence, "You think Gibbs would kill me if I got her number?"

The four hands that attacked his head at once answered his question.


	15. To my loves

Author's Note: Hey guys. Don't panic I'm not going to stop writing. I would never do that. I just happened to reread some of the chapters and, quite honestly, the mistakes and areas where I wanted to change the narrative altogether were screaming at me too loudly for me to continue the way I have been. I read through the chapters and hated myself for the way it was written. A lot of stuff is downright cringey and it has ceased my progress because I'm feeling a bit discouraged and incredibly critical. I'm really committed to this story and each and everyone of you that has favorited and followed- like I love you all sooo much you have no idea- so I wanted to know if you all would be okay with me deleting all the chapters and starting over completely. My goal is for it to be better written and executed differently but the premise remaining the same. I have a poll in order to gauge general consensus in my profile. If you have more complex thoughts that you don't want limited by a poll, or you're a guest, please review and let me know. Be honest. Drag me, I don't care. I'm a review slut. I just need to know.

Thank you guys so much for supporting and following me even at what I think is my worst. I can't say that enough. I promise to be better.

-AW


	16. Understanding

**Authors note: Thanks for tolerating my mental breakdown lol! I adore all the support it has really helped me recollect. I'll just go back and do some intense editing to improve flow and fix those pesky typos. After this chapter I'll start uploading longer ones or more chapters at once to push forward, this is just a transitional chapter I needed to get out of the way.** **I'm also working on an alternative Gibbs/Kelly meeting story that delves a bit more into the Institute life. Once I have it all typed and finished, I'll upload it.**

"But it itches!"

"Told ya to put some more ointment on it."

"It makes me feel all sticky and it _stinks._ I just wanna scratch it."

"Don't."

Kelly growled and continued to squirm from her position atop the her father's boat in the their basement. The sound of sandpaper sliding across wood had been in the only sound in the house until Kelly's burns flared up and made her skin itchy. She had laid herself across the top of the boat in order to reach under her thigh and pick at the bandages until Gibbs had warned her that she would only make her injuries worse if she tore at the skin with her nails.

Kelly had only been home from the hospital a few days and she was healing quickly despite her constant picking. The doctor had given Gibbs a series of creams and ointment prescriptions for her when she inevitably started to itch from the healing. Her injuries weren't serious enough to cause permanent damage but they would scar if she scratched at them.

He watched her writhe on the boat feeling more than a bit sorry for her. If he had simply gone with her and Hollis he could have protected her from nearly burning to death and the discomfort she was experiencing. While he thanked God all she had walked away with was a cough and some minor burns, he still hated himself a little more every time he watched her favor her left arm. Or even when she twitched in her sleep because because she her skin was begging to be scratched. He couldn't do anything to relieve her suffering and he hated that. Hated feeling useless.

"Are you sure I don't have chicken pox too?"

Gibbs blew off his sanding block and exchanged it for a screwdriver, "Nope. Had that when you were four."

"Can I at least take off the oven the oven mitts? This isn't exactly sanitary. We cook with these." She asked holding up the pink mitts Gibbs had slide on her hands when he caught her scratching herself during dinner.

"Nope."

Kelly whined and kicked her feet in the air. She felt like she was being tortured. The house temperature had already been lowered to polar bear standards to keep the heat from agitating her skin, but it wasn't enough. She just wanted to tear her skin off.

"Daddy, why don't you love me anymore?"

Gibbs just looked at her from over the rim of mug as he took of swig of his coffee.

"Between this, and buying me off brand pop tarts last night I'm starting to doubt your affection for me."

Gibbs snorted. "Spoil ya plenty already, Kel."

Kelly poked her lip out and splayed out across the boat, "You don't spoil me enough."

As usual, her father ignored her dramatics and kept sanding the boat. She was supposed to be helping and that lasted for all of three minutes until the exertion had made her skin irritated and she climbed upon the upside down boat to rub against it desperate for friction like some kind of wild animal.

"Distract me, please."

He kept sanding."With what?"

"What case do you have at work."

Gibbs sighed and looked up at her. They didn't usually talk about work at home but ever since she had started feeling like more like herself cabin fever started settling in. Finally he caved and told her about the marine who had been institutionalized before escaping. He claimed he had been drugged and needed help, only for it to be revealed that he had been taking steroids.

"So he didn't get his star?"

"Nope."

"What was his name again?"

"Corporal Damon Werth. Why?"

Kelly whipped out her fourth phone in 3 months, and quickly typed in his name.

"Wow. I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

Gibbs grunted."The Corps doesn't believe in rewarding steroid use. Even for heroes."

"No, I mean men usually look nice in uniform, but he's exceptionally hot."

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow at her.

"What? Just cause you're a man you can't see that he's attractive."

"No, I just don't see why _you_ care, Kelly."

"Since when is it a strange care about our armed forces?"

"Ya aren't even patriotic. Care about his well-being or the way he looks?"

"...both. Definitely both." She said with a cheeky smile.

Gibbs scoffed and ducked under the boat for another screw.

"Hey, you think he needs a friend? A shoulder to cry on?" The marine _was_ cute and she would bet he was feeling rather alone during this time in his life. But the real entertainment came from making her father uncomfortable. Recently she had discovered his left eye twitches whenever she talked about boys ever since she told him the mysterious Amus, whom she called her guardian angel, was almost 30 years old. Amus sending her a specially made Chanel suit from the new fall line when she returned from the Hospital didn't help matters.

Gibbs changed the subject."Have ya taken your meds? Sounding a little loopy."

Kelly made a face at him. "No. I have to eat first."

"Let's fix that. Up for cowboy steaks?" Gibbs asked as he dusted his hands taking to the stairs two at a time. Gibbs and Kelly didn't talk about boys and he'd rather keep that particular tradition in place for as long as possible.

"Can I have veggies, rice, and that special sauce on the side with mine?"

"Got it," he called from the kitchen.

Kelly had been force feeding him the occasional vegetarian meat replacements and health food for as long as she had been cooking for him, and their household remained peaceful as long as he sucked it up and pretended not to notice. She was a good enough cook that he wasn't too bothered about it and he _did_ feel better and more energetic. Not that he would ever tell her that.

Not an hour later, the pair enjoyed a meal on the couch feet propped up on the coffee table watching Law and Order, a new favorite of Kelly's despite her protests that the bad lighting made it hard to binge watch it the way she did her other shows. Kelly found the legal process on the show frustrating, and unnecessarily tedious. Gibbs pointed out to her that actual court proceedings and investigative work was nowhere near as simple as other crimes shows.

"It's so obvious he did it. He's openly teasing everyone."

"Can't lock people away without evidence." He said around a mouthful of steak

.

"They _do_ have evidence."

"Yeah. And all of it is circumstantial. Case can't even go to trial yet."

"People get put away on circumstantial evidence all the time."

Gibbs drawled,"Yeah. The ones that meet the standards of the law."

"Oh, so it can't be too circumstantial but it just circumstantial enough that it sounds like it could be true even though it could be complete crap?"

"That's about the size of it."

"Sounds like good enough lawyer could sell anything."

"They don't pay 'em the big bucks for nothing."

"People would pay even bigger bucks to have their legs broken."

"Haven't been asked to testify yet, have ya?"

"No, not yet." Hotch usually handled the legal side of things if their actions needed defending in court since he himself had been a prosecutor.

"Good."

"Why?"

"It'd be a trainwreck."

"You don't think I could I keep my cool against some prosecutor who wears tacky, knock off loafers?"

"I know ya can't." Kelly was a mostly sweet and playful kid, and he loved her more than anything. But she had wicked temper and a vindictive streak. Shannon had called it passion, her teachers had called it insubordination. She'd be thrown for threatening an officer of the court the second the prosecutor started taking digs. "You're my dad, you're supposed to say I can do anything I put my mind to."

Gibbs popped another piece of steak in his mouth. "You want me to lie to ya?"

She glared and mumbled,"Eat your vegetables."

Gibbs smirked lifting his plate and scraped them on to hers. " 'm full."

When she gave him a look Gibbs stood and walked towards the kitchen. "Don't look so down, Kel. Can always sneak some more in later when I'm not looking."

Gibbs was feeling lighter now that Kelly was back to her full spirited self. They had been lounging around the house, bickering, and painting together most afternoons. Gibbs had wanted to be an artist when he was younger, but life had happened and he had traded it in for woodworking and the Corps. They had recently picked up their shared hobby sitting on the back deck with iced tea and coffee trying to record the flowers in their backyard into a sketchbook with watercolor trying to enjoy the last few warm days of summer. The cool breeze intertwined in the air let them know that fall was coming soon and they'd have to take these little hang out inside in the future.

It was in these moments with his daughter that Gibbs could physically feel the emptiness in heart filling up. He was no longer the shell of the man he was once was, hunkered down in his house just surviving and numbing the pain with bourbon.

On that sunny afternoon on porch he swelled with happiness that she had re-entered his life and God had given them another chance at a life with his only child. They made a point to spend all their free time together whether they went to the zoo or the newest Smithsonian exhibit, or even just hanging around the house doing chores in shared silence when Kelly wasn't playing music in the background. Gibbs didn't care as long as she was there.

Almost losing her again this week had made him all the more thankful. The first night the nightmares had scared her enough to keep her up all night staring at the wall trying to get her heart rate back to normal.

The second night she had screamed out loud when her dreams took her back to the crawl space of that house. This time, she dreamed her father couldn't reach her and the house had collapsed in on her, surrounding her in flames and the sounds of his desperate pleas. Her screams had alerted her Gibbs who was downstairs in his basement. He had taken to the stairs two at a time, gun drawn and bursted into her room. He had found her trying to catch her breath, sitting upright in bed. She had started to tell him that she was fine and that nothing was wrong, and thanked God that he didn't believe her and simply stayed with her caressing her cheek with his thumb until she fell asleep. Her dad had always been the best at keeping her nightmares at bay.

She had certainly been through worse in her life than being trapped under a burning house and it had never reduced her to a sweating, screaming mess afterwards. But ever since she had been home her emotions had been more at the forefront. The depression that had cushioned the blow of trauma from her previous life had been snatched and she was feeling everything full force. She was desperate to live, to live her life to the fullest and she was terrified of that being taken from her just when she had finally gotten a bit of it back.

After the second night, Gibbs would check on Kelly periodically through the night to find her up on her phone video calling her friends or watching movies on her laptop. She seemed content enough and he hadn't worried since Kelly had always been a bit of night owl and struggled with insomnia. It wasn't until he woke that night around 3am to find Kelly wrapped in her mother's blanket sleeping at the end of his bed that he knew she wasn't nearly as okay as she wanted or pretended to be.

He wasn't a fan of therapy himself and judging on how she had responded to the mental evaluations her team was undergoing, he knew she wasn't either. But if her conditions worsened, he would take her kicking and screaming. Until then he simply listened for her at night and pulled her into his arms instead of allowing her to burrow herself next to his feet. She squeaked in surprised when he reached out to her and started to apologize for waking him, but Gibbs shushed her, tucked her under his chin, and rubbed small circles on her back until she fell asleep. He could and be there for her now and decide later as to whether she was in need of something more professional in the future.

Holding her now reminded him of how he felt by her bedside in the hospital

 _Kelly had just fallen asleep after an hour of fighting the meds the doctors had given her. The rush of adrenaline had left him in a woosh, and Gibbs struggled to hold the bitter brew coffee as his hand shook uncontrollably. The doctor said she'd fine but he was too terrified to sleep in case she struggled to to breathe in the middle of the night again and needed him. He clenched the inhaler he had been given checking for the upteenth time that it was still there when he heard her breathing hitch and then level out again._

 _Gibbs wondered how many times he'd have to look forward to this. This wasn't some on-off event. If she stayed in law enforcement hospitals would become a frequented spot. He wasn't ready for that reality. He didn't know many times he could sit by her hospital bed in situations far more serious than this. The fact that it was him that put her there brought on a wave of guilt and rage that he thought would drown him. He couldn't lose her again. He wouldn't bury her again. Knowing that he failed to protect her twice, would do him in. There'd be no Mexico if it happened again._

 _A creak at her door made him look up to see Ducky walk in. The ME glanced at his friend and quietly shuffled in the door carrying a kit. Without a word, he sat in front of Jethro in a chair and tended to his hands. The two sat in silence until it was broken by Ducky's gentle tone, "You can't keep blaming yourself, Jethro."_

 _Gibbs looked away with pained expression on his face, clenching his jaw. He mumbled quietly, "My fault she's here."_

" _And how did you come to that conclusion?"_

" _My case. Should have been with her."_

" _I doubt it would have changed the outcome much. You yourself probably would have died trying to ensure her safety. You saved her life."_

 _Gibbs sighed."No. You and Palmer did. Just stood there...helplessly."_

" _The Colonel's account of events would disagree with that."_

 _Gibbs changed the subject. "How's Hol?"_

 _Ducky cut the surgical thread and begun stitching the cut after it had been cleaned. According to Hollis, he was lucky his hands were still attached to his wrists."Fine. Thanks to Kelly. She feels much the same guilt you do. For a different reason of course, but no less guilty."_

 _A small part of Gibbs felt bad that he hadn't asked about Hollis until this moment. He liked the woman well enough and was glad she was okay, but his dominating emotions told him she was to blame for Kelly's condition as well. It was irrational, he knew that, but he had never been able to reason rationally when it came to his Kelly's well-being._

Since then he had called Hollis to check in to make sure she was alright even though he knew she was. But considering they were dating, it was obligatory. He shouldn't feel that way about the woman he was dating but he was used to that. His ex-wives and former lovers had been women he cared for and liked. Even Diane, who was temperamental and hard to live with, was someone he genuinely liked and still did. But he hadn't been capable of loving them the way they wanted. It had been years since he divorced his last wife and that hadn't changed.

The Colonel wanted something long term and he knew without hesitation that he couldn't give it. Had long promised himself not to marry again, and with Kelly back he was doubling down on that. He loved his daughter to much to allow her to be a casualty of another scorned lover partial to sport equipment. Looking down at the bandaged, sleeping girl in his arms he realized that she was the only woman he could give his whole heart to right now. She wouldn't always need him as she did now, but any distractions from being available to her one hundred percent of the time weren't things he could afford. Gibbs knew what he had to do, he just prayed he could get through it with minimum pain inflicted all around.


	17. A Mole After A Rat

Kelly's burns were essentially healed after a few days off. Gibbs had fussed over her when she was home making sure put on her ointments and fresh gauze whenever she inevitable forgot to do so. Once she was finally able to let her injuries breath she saw some real progress. All that was left of her harrowing adventure, was reddened skin that was still sensitive to sun rays and hot water.

Even though she had been officially cleared to return to work yesterday by her doctor, Gibb still worried. Up until the previous night, she had been sleeping in his bed to keep the bad dreams away. He didn't want her to regress by jumping back into work so quickly, but Kelly swore she was fine and feeling antsy just sitting around while he was at work. He had to let her back at some point but truthfully he didn't want to. Gibbs loved his job, but if he could he'd take Kelly back to Mexico with him and enroll her in school hiding from all the dangers of DC and law enforcement. When she was younger she had wanted to be a "fairy veterinarian princess". If it got her out of the FBI, he'd sprinkle the damn halloween shop wings with glitter and build her a whole castle himself.

 _What is going to hurt the least?_ Kelly thought surveying her closet for the perfect outfit that would minimize the pain while still keeping with the professional requirements of her job. She picked out a nice all long black ensemble consisting of a wrist length shirt, stretchy jeans, riding boots, and a Burberry trench coat. Getting dressed in something other than a layer of gauze and loose cotton felt almost unnatural. She looked at herself in the floor length mirror on her wall. The outfit leaned more toward casual but still worked. She doubted anyone would say anything to her about it since they never really said anything to her at all. She decided fashioned her hair into bun at the top and left the rest to fall in her newly cut waves down her back.

She tugged at the ends with a frown trying to get used to the cut that took her once waist brushing tresses to the middle of her back. Gibbs had taken her to the salon one afternoon after work to have the fire damaged ends snipped and layered. It had to be done, of course, but it was weird. Her hair had always been long and she never did anything other than trim the ends when necessary. It was the shortest it had been in since she was five. Her dad had said she looked nice and sophisticated, which placated her long enough to put it in a bun once she got home and forget about it. But now it was staring her in the face and she didn't know whether to feel free or not. Her hair had been the anchor upon which she steadied her identity, her only tangible proof that she was still Kelly, long haired and free spirited, despite everyone else knowing her as Frost. Gibbs had seemed sense her discomfort at breakfast pushing around french toast. And like no one else could, he read her like an open book and drawled, "Ya know you're still my Kels. Even if ya shaved your head." And just like that, she was and finally took a bite of her food.

Hotch had called her when she had been discharged from the hospital. He had heard about her injuries form the director when he called to check in on her progress on the case. Director Shepard had saved her from having to recount the tale, but couldn't save her from the mountain of paperwork that she would have to submit to both organizations to keep on file. She just knew it was waiting for her on her desk once she got back to work. Though, thankfully, since Hotch was away on assignment in Pakistan she could avoid the awkward questions about her injuries and his hawk eyes roaming her. Hotch was nice and all, and out of everyone on the team, gave her the least amount of hell, but she still didn't want him hovering needlessly.

"Ya sure you're ready to be back at work?" Gibbs asked pulling up the curb of the Bureau to drop her off.

"Dad, I'm fine. I'm not in pain anymore and we don't have any cases yet so I won't be doing anything strenuous anyway."

Gibbs stared at her for a moment before nodding to himself. "Alright. Don't forget to take your pills. Already put your inhaler in your bag for ya."

Kelly didn't bother fighting with him. He wasn't budging on the inhaler thing even if an attack was highly unlikely since it had taken her being surrounded in thick smoke for one to be triggered.

Gibbs kissed the small nick in her eyebrow, "I love you, sweetheart. Ya know how to reach me if ya need anything. Call me when you're done, no riding home with those strangers ya meet online."

"Strangers online? Daddy, it's not the dark web. I showed you the app and everythi- you know what? Nevermind. Love you too, Dad." Kelly giggled walking out Gibb's charger and strung her backpack purse on her back and strode into the building.

Gibbs thought Ubers and Lyfts were kidnapping traps waiting to happen because anyone with a car could be a makeshift taxi driver. Kelly knew he wouldn't be a fan of the app service and had only mentioned it in passing so she could get her car back faster hoping it would spark his natural paranoia. Hopefully it it would drive him to get her car back from Tobias sooner rather than later.

The security guard at the door greeted her with a smile and fist bump. They had gotten used to seeing each other and had pretty good acquaintance thing going ever since she made a point to bring him something back from lunch everyday. It never hurt to make friends with the person who had all the building's passcodes.

The office was subdued as usual but she didn't see anyone around. Hotch had emailed her and let her know about some of the changes the team was going through. They were under review by the Bureau and until they could make a decision, about what he didn't say, he was being sent to head an investigative team overseas. The rest of the team remained for the time being but an old member was coming back. Jennifer Jureau or JJ as Hotch said the team called her. She didn't see anyone new so she just carried on about her day trying to make a dent in some of the paperwork that had accumulated while she was on leave.

She lasted until noon and saved the file she had been working on to get some lunch. She ran down to the her favorite trendy cafe that served sushi burritos. The fusion was just _so_ California but she couldn't resist giving it a shot. When the waiter brought her food in the bag, she headed back to the office. She unpacked the spicy salmon sashimi sushi burrito complete with crab salad, cucumber, avocado, carrot, tofu and spinach and snapped a picture of it for her friend Panpriya. Priya was one of her friends from the Institute that had moved back home to Thailand. She loved sushi and got a kick out the americanization of Asian food. She'd been the one to tell Kelly about fusion food when she saw a video online about it.

Just as Kelly put her phone down to eat, she heard someone call her name. She looked up with furrowed brows at the interruption. No one had bothered her all day and now that she was eating she was suddenly needed?

Kelly looked up to see Agent Morgan looking down at her. She stared back up at him with _What do you want?_ written in her eyes. Morgan smirked humorlessly not able to blame her for the look on her face. They didn't even have a cordial relationship when it wasn't about work and made it a habit to ignore each other when they were in the office. But now he needed her help. He and Garcia had hit a wall with Ian Doyle and if anyone could find a serial killing terrorist it was another serial killing terrorist.

" _Look, Derek, I don't trust Scary Spice anymore than you do. But if we're gonna find the rat we're gonna need a mole."_ Garcia had said just before he had left the room to come find Frost. They had been at this for weeks, and he for months. Interpol, the CIA, and the FBI had nothing and had all but said they had other things to worry about. Ian Doyle wasn't on anyone's list. Other things had taken priority, but he wouldn't allow his Prentiss' murderer to go unpunished. He would do anything to bring the bastard down, even resorting to asking the one person that he believed to be cut from the same cloth.

"Can you come up for second?" He asked gesturing his head towards a room upstairs. For as long as Hotch was gone, it was an unspoken rule that Morgan was in charge. Rossi usually couldn't be bothered to be anything but consult if needed.

"I'm eating." She responded flatly.

"Bring your food with you. It's important." She bristled at the order, but took a deep breath and tried to level her temper. She could practically see her father glaring reminding her to behave herself and not create unnecessary problems. She sighed wrapped her burrito back up and held her iced tea in the other hand and headed up the stairs. _What could they possibly want that someone else who isn't eating couldn't do?_ She thought begrudgingly.

Once Morgan saw her at the top of the stairs he turned and headed back into the room he came from expecting her to follow. She entered the room that was identical to every other private office space in the building. Garcia looked at her and then promptly away suddenly finding her blank computer screen fascinating.

"How much do you know about the woman that was here before you?" Derek said cutting right to the heart of the matter.

"Almost nothing." She was telling the truth. She hadn't really bothered trying to figure it out not caring enough at the time. If she was dead it didn't really matter. Her burrito was getting cold and she had specifically asked for grilled shrimp. "Why?"

"She was murdered and her killer went into hiding not too long after. Every agency, domestic and abroad, has him on their list but can't seem to locate to him."

She blinked at him."Okay?"

"Garcia and I have been trying to narrow down his location for months now but we've hit a wall. I've tried checking in with his personal and arms dealing contacts, but that came up dry."

Garcia added, "I've checked all his contacts , discreetly of course, and it doesn't seem that Ian has even checked in with them for quite some time. Whatever he's planning to do, he's keeping to himself. But we do know that Emily had been protecting his son for him, or rather from him. He's living in Reston, Virginia with a nanny attending a private school. We've been following the scarce paper trail she left behind but most of it leads to dead ends or tapers off."

"What does any of this have to do with me?"

Morgan's jaw tightened at her response and looked over at Garcia who bit her lip. Garcia knew she wasn't going to be the most receptive to this and she was starting to doubt how willing she'd be to help them find Doyle. She had talked Morgan into asking Frost when they had come up empty handed over the last week and started to feel like they were running out of time.

"Don't suppose you'd be willing to help? The CIA and FBI aren't really looking for Doyle so our resources are limited to what we can make happen." Garcia blurted out.

"Isn't it like, I don't know, against protocol to use Bureau manpower for personal vendettas?" She said trying to remember the ethics and morals she'd been trying to learn from her crime shows.

Garcia looked at the floor while Morgan narrowed his eyes at her. "It's more like honing in resources. Emily passed months ago and there aren't any new leads or indication that anyone but us is even trying to find this bastard."

"So you want me to help you bypass and exclude Homeland Security, the CIA, the FBI, Department of Justice, and some of your fellow teammates from this private investigation to hunt down an international terrorist? To put my badge on the line to help you follow the trail a dead woman may or may not have left behind?" Morgan bristled at the "dead woman" comment.

"Look, I didn't want to bring you in on this and if you-"

Frost gave a half smile."What can I do?" Derek and Penelope looked at each other in suspicion and shock, respectively.

"You'll...help?" Garcia asked.

"Yeah. Why not?" Frostand pulled the other chair from the corner of the room up next to the desk and sipped from her drink.

"Why?" Morgan asked not able to catch up with the sudden change in her demeanor.

She shrugged. "Anything is better than paperwork." Derek and Penelope looked each other for a moment but continued working. The trio set to work reading Frost in on the previous case the team had handled sometime last year. Morgan finished, "It wasn't until the end that we found out his name was Ian Doyle but he sometimes goes by his alias in the IRA-"

"Valhalla." Kelly finished taking another bite of her burrito.

Morgan looked over at her spot on the desk."You got a secret file under that burrito wrapper or something? How'd you know that?"

"We've met"

"You-You know Ian Doyle. H-How?" Garcia seemed to go pale and then red like she didn't know whether to be angry or scared.

"Spent some time in Ireland," Frost said simply. Doing underground work in Europe made it impossible to avoid the nationalist militia groups that littered the continent. She just never expected to have it become her issue while on US soil. The world of espionage was just so painfully small at times."So you understand what we're up against."

"Mmm. How far have you gotten?"

"I've tried tapping some of arms dealers, gun runners, and discreetly asked about him in the IRA channels but no one had seen or heard from him in months," Morgan sighed.

"The IRA isn't gonna tell an American cop _anything_."

"No, really? I never would have guessed. I didn't tell them I was a cop." He bit out sarcastically.

"Yeah, but you _sound_ like a cop. Doesn't matter who you pretended to be. That and sniffing around for Doyle looks suspicious no matter what."

"What exactly does a cop sound like?" Morgan asked annoyed.

"You." She said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Uh, guys?" Garcia said looking between them not wanting them to start fighting.

Frost quickly got back on subject. "Mark the terror cell off your list. They're not gonna roll over. Trying to make them talk will just make them double down. They won't turn one of their own to the United Kingdom's strongest ally unless Doyle does something treasonous."

"Okay but that only leaves us with the arms dealers." Garcia said pulling up the list of people they had narrowed down that traded guns with primary European customers.

"Remind me again, everyone that legally deals arms has to have some sort of licensure right?" Frost asked. She hadn't exactly checked the people she bought her weapons from for their credentials and certifications lately.

"Yeah, every American arms dealer has to get a Federal Firearm License. They call it their FFL. Then they've got to get a series of permits to export them outside the country. Takes months." Morgan explained.

"Can I see the list you have?," Frost said gesturing to Garcia's laptop. Penelope slide the computer over to her side of the desk. The list had over twenty names, but she only needed one. She scanned the list glazing over the names of inconsequential dealers already knowing the person she was looking for wasn't listed. The list had some notable smugglers, but no one that Valhalla would reach out to while in hiding.

She needed Rebecca O'Connor. Rebecca regulated every gun shipment that ported and left the east coast. She was a legal arms dealers recognized by the US government but kept a side business of gunrunning that sold to countries and organizations that even that United States refused to do business with. Rebecca could get anything from anywhere and to anywhere. Kelly bought from her directly but she wasn't about to put a federal spotlight on her. Rebecca was also of Irish descent from an old, prominent family that the IRA would respect. If anyone knew where Doyle was right now, Rebecca did.

"You're not gonna tell what you know, are you?" Morgan asked flatly. They had reached out to her for assistance, not for her to go off on her own and start calling the shots.

She smirked. Despite no longer working in the underground, Kelly still had a reputation to protect. And above all the life of her father and herself. The BAU team was proficient, smart, and reliable. However, there was a reason Agent Prentiss had shut them out when her ghosts from her previous life had come back to haunt her. It's a lot easier to be on the defense if it was only yourself you had to worry about. Aside from that, she liked the steady stream of weaponry her relationship with Rebecca granted her. She wasn't about to mess that up.

"How do I know you can get this done?" Morgan asked. "I put too much in this for something to go wrong now."

"You have my word." She promised. She didn't do things half way.

"Got anything more than that? Cause that doesn't mean squat if you pull something." He had a point. A lifetime ago, she would have pulled something.

"Nope. But I don't have anything to gain from screwing you over. That's more than reason enough."

Morgan didn't buy it, but he didn't have a choice. There was something _off_ about her that rubbed Morgan the wrong way, outside of the fact that she enjoyed pissing him off. Special Agent Frost was no better than the man they were looking for and it would only be a matter of time before it was _her_ they were looking for.

Rebecca had agreed to meet a few days from now per Kelly's request. What she needed from her was best asked in person rather than over the phone. She had some time to figure out just how she was gonna play this without outright asking Rebecca to snitch on her fellow countryman.

Her father had called her and let her know to ride home with Fornell that evening. He was caught in the middle of a case he couldn't walk away from and she wouldn't begrudge him for that. She would however begrudge for making her sit in the passenger seat of _her_ car again while she was driven home listening to old 20s swing music.

"Reminiscing on your childhood, Agent Fornell?"

He scoffed. "There's that legendary Gibbs charm. Wondered when it'd start to come out in full force."

"Do you not a have a car? Like one of your own? I know they don't pay a king's ransom at the FBI, but surely someone of your age makes enough to purchase _something_ with wheels."

He ignored the age dig and responded nonchalantly. "Of course. But why drive that old thing when I can just drive the car of undeserving delinquent? My car doesn't come with that kind of satisfaction."

"I'm not a delinquent."

"Didn't you run away from home?"

"I didn't run away exactly I-"

"And did you or did you not commit a crime whilst out?"

She narrowed her eyes almost imperceptibly. "What are you talking about?"

"Mouthing off to your father-"

"I didn't mouth off I defended myself."

"And then ran away after hiding a criminal-"

"He needed help-"

"Delinquent."

Her phone rang under her thigh where it was pressed between her and the soft armchair cushion she was sitting. It was her dad.

"Heyyy, Dad," she sung in to the phone.

Gibbs breathed a laugh. "Hey, Kel. Take it ya made it back alright."

"Yeah, I'm all good. I'm just gonna order food and play this game for the night."

"Still?"

"It's so fun. I finally upgraded my house and now I'm decorating."

"Thought you said it was gonna take forever to do that last night."

"Only if you're above murder."

"What?"

"The man next door lives in a mansion so I made him fall in love with me, we got married, and then I drowned him in the pool. He had a great insurance policy that I'm now spending on a dining set. "

Gibbs scoffed. "You'll make a good ex-wife someday, Kels."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Listen, you gonna be alright on your own? 'm headed back now to grab something, but you'll be alone all night."

"That's fine."

"Ya sure?"

"On hundred percent. As long as you don't send Fornell to babysit me I'll survive the night."

She could hear the door downstairs open and shut as he walked in the house. "Did you grab the mail before you came in? I'm expecting something."

"Not this morning I didn't. Grab it when I get there." He said absently grabbing his coat from his chair gesturing to his team and Mann that he would be back.

 _When you get here…?_ Kelly paused. Listening to the sound of shuffling in the living room followed by footsteps leading down into the basement."Are you expecting company today?" She whispered already reaching for her gun on her bedside table. "No, why?" Gibbs was confused.

Kelly knew no one dropped by unannounced besides his team but they were all in front of him. The other end of the phone went silent for a long moment. "Kelly? Ya there?"

The next words out of her mouth made his heart drop into his stomach. "Dad. Someone's in house."

Gibbs froze in the middle of the bullpen for a second and then broke into a run to the staircase just past the elevator.

Only one person would try something as low as going to his house.

"Boss?" Tony yelled after him craning his neck around from the screen to look at him. What had he missed?

"Gibbs? Where's the fire?" Mann asked ready to follow him. Ziva followed suit without hesitation while McGee sat debating whether to follow Ziva's lead.

"Grab your gear! _Now_! Call Ducky and CDC on the way. Have them meet us at my house." Gibbs yelled.

His voice left no room to question why out of the blue the team was being called to his house. The group scrambled to catch up as Gibbs bolted down the stairs forgoing the elevator and sprinted to the parking lot with his phone still in his ear parting from Ziva as she rushed to grab the other car for the rest of the team.

"Kelly? Are ya still there?" He tried to whisper so his voice couldn't be heard on the other end. He was weaving through traffic like a maniac with a lead foot.

"Yeah," she breathed barely making a sound as she maneuvered past the squeaky floorboards silently descended the swiftly stairs on the balls of her feet. She rounded the corner with her gun pointed and used the rug in the living to muffle her footsteps. She could hear whoever it was in the basement and didn't want to give away her position. The intruder had walked in the house like he just knew it was empty.

"Stay away from him, Kelly. Do you hear me? Don't move. I'm on my way." Gibbs knew he would get no further response from her and that she would confront him long before he could arrive. He desperately hoped she wouldn't be hardheaded and stay upstairs and quiet waiting for him to get there. But this was _Kelly_. She was probably too close to head back anyway. He added, "Just be careful, Kels. _Please._ " He listened to the sound of her gentle breathing that got slower the closer she got to him.

Kelly was right outside the door now. She could her a gentle brushing sounds, almost like he was sweeping. She swung around and placed herself standing on the threshold with her gun pointed while the other still held her phone. She could hear her dad on the other end weaving through honking angry traffic.

His back was to her. It was definitely a man holding something over Gibbs' worktable.

"You don't like knocking?" The man whipped around with a canister in her hand looking shocked before he covered it with a smile at her. Whether it was meant to make him looking confident or at her appearance in her oversized USMC sweatshirt and blue kneesocks, she didn't know.

"Hello. I don't believe we've met." He said trying to be cordial. Kelly didn't answer.

"So serious. You must be related to Agent Gibbs." He chuckled. "Carrying a gun like that you could hurt yourself. Best not to play with such things."

Gibbs chilled hearing the voice over the phone that confirmed his fears.

 _Sharif_

"Kelly." Gibbs said not bothering to whisper this time.

Kelly could hear the edge in his voice. This man wasn't a friend. She looked at the intruder who was still smiling at her and she lowered the phone from her ear and tossed it on the counter.

"You're right."

The series of gunshots that rang out over the phone had Gibbs plowing through the last night.


	18. For You, Anything

Gibbs pulled into driveway all but parking his car on the lawn and almost running over Kelly's bicycle. He rushed inside just after hearing his team pull in behind. Without so much as a glance back.

"Gibbs!" Mann yelled from the end of the driveway trying to stop him from going in. What's he thinking? In all the time she had known him he didn't strike her as the impulsive type or as someone particularly attached to his house. Hollis thought back to the conversation they had before arriving.

" _Sharif probably found his way into Gibbs' house." Tony said in dark voice weaving through traffic._

" _You really think he would go that far?" McGee asked. Mann looked between them. She was obviously missing something here._

" _I don't think he knew what line he was crossing." Ziva said sounding concerned on Sharif's behalf._

"Is she even home?" McGee asked running up the driveway after handing out gas masks to the team.

"It's just past five. Only reason he'd leave like that." DiNozzi huffed.

"What are you guys talking about?" The Colonel had asked. "I get going to his house was low but running into a house full of BZ gas is idiotic. Gibbs knows the risk."

Tony looked at her like she was crazy. "I doubt he cares about risk at this point. Mask on."

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O

Upon entering the house, he could hear Sharif screaming expletives from the basement. "Kelly?!" He called out looking around.

"Dad? You're here this time." Her voice said calmly from the kitchen. He ran to find her perched on the counter eating her usual after work snack. She leaned over to shut the door to the basement muffling the screams from below.

"Yeah. You okay, sweetie?" He took her face between his hands looking her over. She wasn't hurt, bruised, or even flushed. She seemed oddly relaxed.

"Yep." She smiled at him hopping off the counter to give him a hug that he readily returned. He dropped a kiss of relief on her head and buried his face into her freshly washed hair.

A sudden thwack to the back of her head had her pulling away confused and bit annoyed."Ow!"

"You pull a stunt like that again and I'll wring your neck." He said seriously while she rubbed her head grumpily.

"Boss?!" Tony yelled entering the house with the team, guns drawn.

"Stand down, DiNozzi. Everything's fine."

The team filed in the kitchen still wearing their gas masks. Kelly looked down at her bare legs, barely there compress shorts, and high socks that were hardly suitable for company and blushed. She was suddenly hyper aware of the fact that she also wasn't wearing bra either. What a moment.

"Where is Sharif?" Ziva asked looking around. As if on cue, the man downstairs let out another pained howl. Kelly shuffled behind her father and spoke to Gibb's back. "He's in the basement."

"He armed?" McGee asked with his gloved hand hanging over the doorknob to the basement.

Kelly held up his gun. She had checked him before leaving him down there just in case the wound wasn't severe enough to keep him from trying to blindly shoot at her through the walls.

"Come on, Kels. We have to get you checked out." Gibbs pushed her back through the kitchen throwing her snack in the trash on the way out.

"For what?"

"Infection. Suspect had been spreading a toxins for chemical warfare. CDC will be here soon to check the house. DiNozzo, stay behind make sure they get everything." He said leading her through the living room and out the door. Mann watched the pair brush past her as if she wasn't there. She could hear Frost, or rather Kelly it seemed, protesting about needing to go upstairs to change. Once again, she had been left out on a crucial detail that everyone else was well aware of.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Autopsy tables were cold. Ice cubes on wheels is what they felt like. Ducky had quipped that none of his guests had ever complained. The whole room was freezing and Kelly's thighs had goosebumps all over them.

She leaned into Gibbs and to steal some of his warmth. He pulled her closer and rubbed her arms to chase the chill away making a scratchy sound with his scrubs Ducky had loaned him. At least he got to wear to clothes. She was essentially naked in front of her Dad and his friend. Ducky had forced the pair to strip down nearly to their skivvies to swab their skin for any sign of the chemical. Gibbs had been lucky enough to have only experienced limited exposure, but since Kelly had actually gone in the basement with Sharif she was left in nothing but the sports bra she had left in her dad's car from their hiking trip and shorts that had outright refused to shed. Her sweatshirt and socks had been bagged and sent away to forensics for testing.

"Yes. I remember back in Scotland a friend of mine got into some nasty chemicals himself. Ended spreading the whole thing all over the lab and coating us in the mixture. It wasn't deadly but we didn't know that until after our 3rd chemical shower during a 12 hour lockdown." Ducky rattled on from inside his hazmat suit as he recounted a tale that only Kelly cared to hear about.

"Duck. She's shivering. Are we infected or not?"

"Right. My apologies. It seems that both of you show no signs of any airborne exposure to the chemical. But, Jethro, before you ran off earlier I was looking further into our first victim who showed similar signs. I don't believe it's airborne.

"How'd the first victim get in contact then?"

"I trust you recall those bloodied marks on the wall left by Major John McGuire in that god awful dungeon?"

Gibbs paused. "Sharif coated the walls and door with it knowing he'd try to escape. It wasn't in the air. It was in the room itself."

"Precisely. Contact exposure takes longer to take effect but it's safer for the distributor. Lower risk of accidental exposure. There were chemical burns on his fingertips. The BZ must have eaten away at the skin."

Ducky turned to Kelly. "Kelly, did you see what he touched when he came in the house."

"No, I only saw him once I was in the basement. But I know for sure he was messing with dad's tools on the table. Maybe even the boat. He had this canister with him."

"I would assume then that CDC will most likely condemn the house for awhile until they're sure every part of it clear of any BZ."

"How long will that take? I don't even have my phone." Kelly said.

"I'd say anywhere from 24 to 48 hours. Nothing too terrible. For now you should consider yourself lucky if you don't show any effects associated with exposure. Abby's lab results will tell us whether either of you touched anything contaminated. The lab where the powder was created sent over an antidote and you've both been washed cleaned. If you start feeling even slightly nauseous, dizzy, or disoriented we'll administer the drug."

"Can't just take it now just in case?" Gibbs suggested. He didn't want to take any chances with his daughter. They had no idea how it would affect someone of Kelly's size, sex. and age since the only victims so far had been men in their thirties.

"It's an antidote, not a vaccine. It's unclear what it will do if treated like one."

"I'll book a hotel. Can run by the store and get some clothes. We'll play the next few days by ear." Gibbs said to Kelly.

"Oh, Jethro, don't worry bout accommodation. You're both more than welcome to stay with me. Mother is away with her bridge friends for a few days in Vegas. Besides, I owe Kelly here quite a few meals." Ducky said affectionately touching her nose with his pointer finger. Kelly giggled. It _was_ better than staying in a hotel.

Gibbs smirked fondly at the exchange, "You sure? Don't wanna put ya out, Duck. We'd be fine in a hotel."

Ducky waved his hands in front of him dismissing the idea, "We'll have none of that. I need to keep an eye on the both of you should you succumb to your symptoms. It's best to act quickly to ward off any lingering issues."

Gibbs glanced at Kelly and nodded once. "Alright."

"Gibbs!"

The three occupants of autopsy turned to the excited voice of Abby Sciuto carrying a bundle of clothes. "Thank Goodness you're still here. I was afraid you'd leave in those scrubs. Not that you don't look good in them. They bring out your eyes. You actually remind me of one of those distinguished doctors on those bad medical dramas. Not that you're bad at science like them, well you kinda are but-"

"Abs…" Gibbs warned not able to squash the tug of his lips on one side at the unintended jibe.

"Right. I ran the tests and your clothes are clean of any BZ. CDC says the living room and kitchen were clear too. Don't think the same applies to the basement though." Abby handed Kelly and Gibbs their clothes. Kelly gratefully grabbed her sweatshirt and socks back from Abby and threw them over her sports bra. Thankfully the sweatshirt brushed her knees like a dress so she wasn't terribly exposed for being in public. Abby had even mentioned that girls wore t-shirts and pullovers as dresses to be trendy. That had made her feel less like a tart, but no less tacky.

"Yeah. Guessed as much. Thanks, Abs." Abby twirled and left the room just as quickly as she had come.

"Kels, head up to the bullpen. I'll need to brief SecNav and the director. Then we'll head to Ducky's."

"Okay." Kelly slide on her worn Birkenstocks and headed for the elevator.

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The darkness had fallen beautifully over DC and she could see the traffic had died down from the large bay window in the bullpen. She could stare out this window all night.

"Nice view, huh?" A voice said from behind her. Kelly turned to see one of her father's agents leaning against the wall.

"DiNozzo, right?"

" _Very_ Special Agent...Tony DiNozzo. Yes."

Kelly nodded and turned to sit at Gibbs' desk. She was starving and had suddenly remembered the chocolate mint cookies he had in his desk when some girls scouts had propped themselves outside the NCIS office. He had forgotten to bring them home but had mentioned them in passing. She ripped open the pack and started eating. Tony reached over and nicked one of her cookies and plopped himself down on the corner of the desk.

"So."

Kelly raised a brow.

"Listen, I think we got off on a weird start on that last case."

"Did we?" They had barely spoken and the case had been in overdrive from the beginning. She expected this conversation more from Mann than anyone.

"Yeah. I like to get to know the people I work with. It's a dangerous job, trust is required."

"We don't work together."

"We have before. You never what the future holds. Fate's funny like that. " Tony shrugged flirtatiously confident.

Kelly looked up at him innocently confused while McGee and Ziva watched Tony strike out from McGee's desk.

"This is next level stupid. Even for Tony." Ziva remarked watching her partner flirt with their team leader's daughter. "Where's all this boldness coming from?"

"When has Tony ever been not bold?" McGee snorted.

"Yeah, but this dancing with Satan. Gibbs would kill him. Tony does not usually make it a point to get on Gibbs' bad side."

"The devil you mean." McGee corrected.

"Are the two not synonymous in English?"

"Yes, but in this case the phrase is dancing with the devil. Like the song."

"It's the same thing."

"It-nevermind. You're right. We made a bet."

"You made a bet so he would ask Kelly out?"

"In a way. I told him he wasn't good looking enough to get her interest. As usual, his ego could not take the jab. Especially not after that girl at the pizza joint blew him off. Said he was losing his mojo."

"Do I even wanna know what that is?"

"Probably not."

"So tell more about you. Frost is an interesting name. That's Scandinavian isn't it?" Kelly didn't know. She gotten the name because people thought she was an unwavering, icy bitch. Not because her family descended from Northern Europe.

"If you say so."

"You know Swedes and the Italians have a lot in common."

"Do you want a cookie, Ziva? McGee?" Kelly offered.

Ziva smiled walked over. "Sure."

Kelly gave her the cookie and Ziva took a bite. "Hmm. Chocolate and minty. Americans have such low standards on what they consider chocolate."

"We really do. It's not Swiss, but it is addictive. Might be laced or something." Kelly said still popping another in her mouth and handing one over to McGee.

"This reminds me of when I was a boy scout. My friends used to try and impress the girls with our pocket knives so they would give us free cookies."

"I didn't know that, Probie." Tony asked turning towards McGee.

"I've mentioned being a boy scout before."

"No, I knew that. Its very you. Just didn't realize you had friends."

Tim sighed. "Tony-"

"I was a girl scout too." Kelly said.

"Yeah? It was great, right? People used to think I was so lame for it." Tim said getting excited.

"Still do." DiNozzo mumbled. Tim rolled his eyes.

"I never got any patches, but I did break the national Girl Scouts Cookie Record."

"Wow. Most cookies sold?"

"Nope. Most cookies eaten." Gibbs quipped striding into the bullpen with Ducky shuffling in behind him. "Had to set up a payment plan to reimburse the Troop leader. Not to mention the dental bills."

Kelly giggled at the memory but kept eating.

"DiNozzo, is there a reason your ass is parked on my desk?" Gibbs barked.

"No, Boss. I mean, yes, Boss. No. I'm gonna finish my report."

"Good idea."

"I want that report before you all leave." Gibbs said hovering over Kelly's head to click his computer off. He dropped a kiss on her hair and whispered, "Let's go."

Kelly picked up her cookies followed Gibbs and Ducky out the bullpen .

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Immediately after work Ducky had led Gibbs and Kelly to his house for night. Ducky had promptly force fed his famous pot roast and made tea and coffee for them. Kelly had taken an immediate liking to the parade of corgis Mrs. Mallard owned the way Gibbs knew she would.

Kelly was obsessed with animals and they all loved her right back. She had begged him to keep the stray they had found on the beach in Mexico after one of their sailing adventures, but he had said no because they had no house of their own and her rental wasn't allowed pets. Now they were both too busy to keep a dog around but he knew that wouldn't stop her from asking. Thankfully, she could come here if she ever needed to fulfill her urge instead of pestering him about it.

The three sat in the living room with the fire crackling under the soft tone of another one of Ducky's famous stories. Kelly had passed out pillowing her head on his Gibbs thighs about 10 minutes ago without Ducky noticing. Not that he needed a particularly attentive audience in order to get swept away by the past. Gibbs listened to Ducky conclude his story about his lost love in Switzerland as he ran his fingers through Kelly's hair absentmindedly.

"...alas it was never meant to be. I never saw her again. I still wonder about after all these years even after she stole my wallet."

"Fascinating as always, doctor."

"We seem to have lost Kelly somewhere along there. A shame. She would have loved this one."

"Oh, something tells me she'll hear it again someday." Gibbs said wryly. He had heard quite a few Ducky stories more than once but he always had something up he sleeve Gibbs hadn't heard before.

Ducky rolled his eyes at his friend in good humor. "Very funny, Jethro. At least I finally have a good audience."

Gibbs looked down at Kelly's sleeping form in his lap and smiled. "Yeah ya do. She loves stories. No matter what they're about. Always has."

Ducky looked at Gibbs feeling a smile creep on to his own face. In all the years he had known Gibbs he had never seen him so content and at peace. Ducky felt like he was getting to know Gibbs all over again some days. He hadn't had the pleasure of meeting the Leroy Jethro Gibbs of the past before he had lost his family, but the man before him was probably the closest he would get. He was still demanding, impatient, and aloof at work but he indulged Ducky more than he normally would have agreeing to go get drinks and letting loose that dry sense of humor paired with banter more than he had before. The team hadn't changed much from what he could see. He still loved and protected them like they were his own.

Although the shadows had lifted from his friends eyes, there was still that bittersweet tinge that lingered knowing he had known true love and lost it. Fate had brought his daughter back to him but Ducky knew for certain now that Shannon would not be returning

Dr. Mallard considered himself to be a man of great patience and tolerance for many things but botched forensics and poor autopsy work were inexcusable and, given the circumstances, unforgivable. The records at NCIS for Kelly Marie Gibbs were purposefully vague but to the untrained eye they were conclusive. Certain aspects stood out that allowed him to see them for the forgery they were immediately. Like the healed scar on the corpse examined that would still exist well into adulthood but was noticeably on Kelly. While Kelly had her own share of scars, this one was not among them.

The most stand out feature was the tonal shift in the report from when the senior ME had died to when his assistant had taken over. The older man had been detailed, specific, and somehow compassionate even in his official report. Yet the finishing had been cold, clinical, and detached as if it had been done by someone else entirely. Someone who had never felt compassion a day in his life.

He couldn't imagine the suffering Kelly had endured in the years she had been apart from her father's protective reach. Ducky hated the previous assistant with a passion and was relieved to know he had met a gory end for his sins. He was an embarrassment and a disgrace to the profession.

Ducky was derailed from his trail of thought when Jethro suddenly called his name. He looked over to see Kelly sweating and breathing heavily in her sleep. Gibbs was checking her temperature and wiping the sweat from her face.

"One moment." Ducky heaved himself from his chair and grabbed his medical bag from the dining room and rushed back to the living room where Kelly had started to roll restlessly.

"It's alright, Jethro. Hold her still while I administer the antidote." Gibbs stilled Kelly wrapping his arms around her torso to secure her arms down as Ducky quickly pricked her with the syringe and poured the medicine into her veins.

"I thought ya said she was clean." Gibbs said not caring at the moment how accusatory he sounded. Ducky wasn't phased. He expected this reaction. "She was. On the outside. But I noticed her breath smelled rather sweet when she came in for examination. Like she had been eating fruit."

"She had been. She was eating mango slices when we found Sharif."

"Yes, well like most fruit mangoes are mostly water. That most likely diluted the powder solution long enough to keep from the symptoms showing themselves as quickly as they normally would had she ingested them with something like, say, potato chips. Her saliva probably wiped her fingers clean of the solution."

Gibbs looked at Ducky for a moment. "You knew."

Ducky nodded. "I suspected. But like I said, she could not have taken it until the symptoms made themselves visible. Outside of enjoying the company, I needed to make sure I was here when they did."

"Why?" Ducky knew he wasn't actually asking the obvious regarding why he needed to be there. But they had promised not to keep things from each other. Especially not something like this.

"You're a parent, Gibbs. You would have lost it if you thought she was in danger even though we already had the cure by that point. She would have sensed something was amiss even if you had kept it from her and the rush of adrenaline could have caused the enzymes to move rapidly worsening her condition in a matter of minutes."

Gibbs knew Ducky was right. He didn't want her ending up like the Major. Overheated and delirious. He wouldn't admit it though. He simply clenched his jaw and looked back down at Kelly who had stopped sweating and had returned to normal. Her breathing had leveled back out and she snuggled back against him and stilled once more. "Thanks, Duck. I know I get….irrational when it comes to Kelly."

"I don't expect anything less." Despite his aloof demeanor, Ducky knew Gibbs was a man of great feeling with an enormous amount of heart and loyalty to those he loved. But Kelly was his life and he didn't want to imagine a world where Gibbs would have to live without her again.

Ducky thought for a moment before speaking again."I imagine it's nothing short of what your own father feels when you find yourself in danger."

He kept eyes focused on packing his medical bag to avoid the dark look that he knew was passing Gibb's face at the mention of father. They had taken this route once before and it hadn't ended well. When he peeked up, all he saw was the grey haired man looking towards the wall in silence.

He didn't expect Ducky to take this route but he should've seen it coming. It was a low blow even he didn't mean for it to be. Gibbs hadn't spoken to or seen his father since Kelly and Shannon's funeral. Showing up with a date on the worst day of his life had been the straw that broke the camel's back on a relationship that had always been strained at best. Gibbs had always been closer to his mother and when she had passed there was no buffer to keep them from butting heads constantly. Shan had tried and had only really been successful because his father adored she and Kelly enough to lay off. But she just thwarted the issue, they would likely never see eye to eye.

This wasn't the first time he had thought of his father since Kelly had returned. He knew he would want to know she was alive and despite their differences, everyday he was kept in the dark Kelly was robbed of her time with the grandfather she had adored. And no matter what difference they had, she deserved to be able to spend time with him. And if these past few months had taught him anything, it was family, biological or chosen, was everything.

"Yeah, Yeah I know Duck."

Ducky gave a small smile. His answer was short but he knew that the comment have resonated with him more than he would even verbalize. Ducky announced that he was retiring for the night and let Gibbs know that the rooms upstairs were ready and had fresh sheets.

Gibbs thanked him and watched him walk upstair to his room. They both knew he wasn't moving Kelly and wouldn't get any sleep, but his manners forced him to offer even if he wouldn't take him up on it. Gibbs was no stranger to sleeping on a couch, though Ducky's were fancier and firmer than even the ones his daughter bought. Kelly was sleeping just as soundly as she would in her own bed. He didn't even want to start thinking about where she had slept before to make this concrete block with pillows comfortable enough to sleep on. He didn't feel tired and looking over at the clock he knew it wasn't too late to make a call that would either piss him off or wear him out enough to sleep. Gibbs shifted carefully as not to jostle Kelly and pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number he hadn't in years but still knew as well as he did his own address. The phone rang twice before they answered.

"Hello?"

Gibbs took a deep breath and looked down at Kelly brushing her hair from her face and rubbing his thumb soothingly over her thick eyebrow.

"Hi, Jack."


	19. Over A Cliff

**A fat chapter for y'all, because I suck and I know it.**

The Washington Monument loomed in the distance, its white marble glowing like a second sun in the autumn sky. The trees were just beginning to turn but the weather wasn't yet cold enough to start making the greenery brown and scarce. They park was peppered with clusters of families and people with their dogs wrapped in their sweaters enjoying the crisp weather clasping at their lattes and dark roasts. Her own earl grey blend warmed he fingers to her core as she waited in the cool weather for a miraj to appear.

"Long gone are the days of discretion I see," said the heavily accented Irish female voice behind her. Kelly glanced down at her mustard yellow cable knit sweater and smirked.

"The old days aren't completely gone."

"Oh?" She said settling behind her on the bench facing the forest.

"We're still doing the stereotypical backs facing meeting."

"Always did wondered why that was ideal."

"Hollywood logic says talking to yourself in public in subtle. It is amusing though."

"Is it?"

" _You're_ still playing along."

Rebecca laughed. "So I am. Haven't seen you or the lads in a lifetime, Frost. Heard you got out."

"I did."

"But not completely?"

"Does anyone ever?"

Rebecca scoffed."Fairplay."

"I need to find someone. He's from Dublin, moved here a few months ago."

"You've come to an Irish person to find another, have you?"

"Naturally."

"Alright out with it. Which one?"

"Valhalla."

Rebecca paused. "What's Ian done now?"

"In short? Killed a woman. An FBI agent at that."

"I forgot you're proper agent now too."

"I guess. But if Ian has been buying from you it'll only be a matter of time before they trace his weapons back to you."

Rebecca sighed. "He's more trouble than he's worth these days. I can survive an investigation though. Done it before."

"I want him."

"Why does it matter to you? I thought your loyalty was limited to the foursome."

"It always will be. This is more of a hobby. I'm thinking of taking up knitting next."

Rebecca tsked and shook her head. "An idle mind is the devil's shire."

"You know where I can find him?"

"Dunno, Frost. Yer askin me to turn against my fellow countrymen?"

Kelly breathed a laugh. They had done this dance before. "What do you need Becs?"

"Something was taken from me and I want it back." She immediately.

"Well, that was easy. And with all your resources, you can't get it yourself?"

"Some of my men were taken out in a trade-off gone wrong so I'm conservin' my bodies. Surely you of all people understand the desire to work with those ya know over a stranger looking for the next dollar."

"What am I looking for?"

"A transport container. No bigger than a laptop case."

"What's in it?"

"You can't just keep yer curiosity to yourself?"

"Afraid I don't do dummy runs."

Rebecca let out a deep sigh. "For once, I'm making something to save lives instead of end them. It's an infrared shield. Worn like a bulletproof vest. My deal with your country's military is gonna make soldiers undetectable by heat sensor. Getting approved for the patent and closing the deal will be revolutionary….Or it would have been." She spat.

"And you don't want make it known the vest has been compromised."

"No one knows. Not about to put it the hands of some nosey lackeys either. The prototype is fully functional and worth billions. If they figure that out…"

"It's good as gone."

"If they haven't already. It's only been a few days."

"A few days is more than enough time to get outta dodge."

"No, no they're still here. It got mixed up in a tradeoff with some other weapons. Similar bags. A stupid mix up. Those responsible have been handled."

"So they don't know they've got it?"

"Probably not. Sokolov and his men are still in the States for a gathering. But they know _of_ it. Practically licked their chops over it when my father couldn't keep his cake hole shut about it. If they knew, they'd be on their way to Russia by now, not making small talk over quiche and crappy American beer."

Kelly disagreed. Had it been her, she'd linger long enough to play oblivious and send the vest back quietly using Rebecca's own reasoning against her. Divulging this wouldn't help Rebecca though. "Mmmm, forgive me Rebecca, but this is a heavy job for an address of a man you couldn't care less about."

"I know. I was gonna call you anyway. You just beat me to it. Think of it as a package deal request. I'm not asking this for free, you know I'm not. Think of the Doyle information as the thank you card and what I wire to your account the gift."

"And you'll owe me." Kelly wasn't at all strapped for cash nor particularly tempted by it. No one would ever say no to more of it, but the favor is what was invaluable.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm already your slave for life."

"Send me the details." She stood ready to head back.

"I need you to do this without them knowing, Frost. This is still a top client. If they find you rummaging through their stuff it's all over. At best they'd be incredibly insulted. At worst, they'll kill you."

"Sokolov has never seen my face. Pretty sure he'll just kill me."

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Rossi dragged his eyes lazily between Frost and Morgan. The usual professional tension between them was still there, but it seemed their personal relationship had taken a turn. Morgan specifically. He had, thankfully, stopped giving Frost a hard time and arguing with her over dead bodies in front of the local PDs. Something had changed and Rossi would bet his career that it had something to do with Prentiss. Morgan was trying to be discrete and investigate any new leads behind the team's back, but Rossi had seen through it. The late nights shutting himself away with Garcia when they didn't have active cases were dead giveaways for him even if the rest of the team missed it. Morgan and Frost were always the first ones out of the office every evening, but now instead of Morgan dragging everyone out for after work for drinks, he dragged Frost into meetings after hours.

Everyone had taken Prentiss' death hard. Reid had been the most visibly distraught and according to JJ, had been seeking her counsel to get through it, Garcia was her usual emotional self, Hotch was stoic, and Morgan was angry. But Rossi had long suspected that Emily hadn't succumbed to her injuries the way they had said.

Hotch's body language had been that of guilty man doing what he had to rather than a grieving one at the funeral. His eyes had been down as if he were sad but he was more focused where the others seemed lost and confused. When Haley had passed, Hotch had been distracted and distant and prone to irritation. This time, he was calm and talked about her as if they hadn't been close. He had been a pillar of strength to the team and when psych evaluations had come around, he pushed them all to talk to someone as opposed to jumping to his team's defense as he had in the past. He had been careful not to be cavalier about anything, and offered his support the way he always did. Though he seemed to not be sharing their misery, he was concealing the burden of a secret. If the team had been closely enough, they would have seen the minute hints that said something was amiss. But their own misery consumed them, and Rossi predicted that nothing good would come of them finding out the truth before it was time.

JJ had left them not long after but had she stayed he suspected that everyone would know something was up. Jennifer wore her heart on her sleeve and wouldn't be able to hide holding in this kind of secret. It would have eaten at her to face everyone and pretend to be just as sad as they were knowing she was the reason. She could handle Reid, but he had a suspicion that would come back to bite her if the secret ever got out.

Rossi left Morgan to his own devices on this one. There was no use in stopping him anyway. If he was ever going to get any closure, he needed to find his own answers. Rossi believed in him and knew he would accept whatever consequences came his way as the price he had to pay to bring justice to his friend. He would have stopped anyone else, anyone less focused, anyone with less insight. But if anyone could handle this and get the result he wanted, it was Morgan.

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Per Rebecca, Sokolov and his men were currently at the U.S Russian Embassy. Sokolov had ties to the current President and was enjoying a cushy government position as a result. His illegal activity was public knowledge which made him a polarizing figure to even the most well-trained political sycophants. A series of ambassadors and dignitaries were in town for a summit on something that was so boring it made Kelly's eyes cross when she tried to read the file. With a meeting that legalistic, Sokolov would be getting bored and rubbing everyone else in the room the wrong way with his boorish manner. Amus had been moaning about having to go, and jumped at the chance to help when Kelly had asked him to keep Sokolov busy for the night and away from his jet. He was leaving that night and she needed to stretch her window of opportunity just a touch wider.

The office was quiet, everyone else having gone home for the night. She checked her phone. It was time. She clicked her desk light off and grabbed her bag heading for the door.

The elevator opened and to reveal Morgan leaning against the wall in a leather coat and dark clothes. They looked at each other without saying a word for a minute before Morgan broke the silence.

"I'm coming too." She had seen this coming. Morgan either had a pet peeve for secrets or didn't trust she'd come through on her end of the deal. Probably both.

"Yeah, alright. I could use the extra set hands." After bugging her for more information she had finally caved and told him she was exchanging a favor for a favor.

"Just like that?"

"Sure. Just leave your hall monitor sash in your desk drawer." Kelly punched the button for the lobby.

"Why? What are we doin'?" He said turning to face her.

Kelly glanced at him but didn't answer.

"Hey! Are pulling me into something? I don't want anything to do with all your crap." He all but yelled.

Kelly was unphased and remained facing the doors. "More like frowned upon. Of course, no more frowned upon than fielding your own investigation to hunt down a terrorist without the Bureau's knowledge. But we all tend to cherry pick our morals when they suit us. Only some of us can admit it though."

"I'm warning you, Frost. If you play me, I'll personally have your badge and make sure you never work for the government again."

"Only you would think that was threat." Kelly mumbled. Gibbs would certainly be happy.

Morgan's jaw clenched at her attitude. He started to respond but she breezed right past him to the parking lot.

Kelly had borrowed one of Amus' cars for this little excursion and it was the new love of her life. The white Range Rover had seats that felt like silk and looked like peanut butter. She was seriously considering cutting her loses and letting Tobias keep the Lexus.

Morgan slide and tried to keep his appreciation for the car hidden, but Frost still notice. "Nice, right? Contract killing is a great way to make money on the side." She teased.

Morgan laughed humorlessly. He refused to be baited. "Long as you don't mind the mess right?"

"Only messy if you don't know what you're doing." She smirked and tilted her head towards the backseat. Morgan turned to see a M40 Sniper Rifle splayed across the backseat.

Morgan's face paled before looking ready to explode. She pressed on the gas harder than she intended to jerking him back into his seat. "Sorry, haven't driven in a awhile."

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They passed the Russian Ambassador's Residence on the way to the hanger. Amus had left the curtain open and seated Sokolov and his men by the table at the window as promised. She slowed down passing the window and caught Amus' eye he bit his lip and slapped his cards.

Morgan caught her gaze. "You got a guy on the inside or something?"

"Good eye."

"Cards on the table, Frost. What's going on?"

"A friend is keeping a Russian official busy. We're heading to the hanger."

"Keeping him busy? With a card game?"

"Yeah, our Russian friend has a gambling vice and _my_ friend is someone with disposable income that knows when to let someone win."

"How does this connect to the hanger?"

"He bought some guns from someone and something got mixed up that shouldn't have. We're going in to retrieve it without starting a diplomatic crisis."

"What is it?"

"That's classified. At least until the patent clears. But it brings us closer to Doyle."

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It wasn't late enough for the hanger lot to be empty so there was a few people milling about and only handful in the hanger they were targeting.

"Okay, come one." Kelly said stepping out of the car.

"So what? We just gonna stroll in."

"Yeah, I got some Girl Scout cookies in the back wanna see if they care to trade?"

"Hey! Cut the crap already." He demanded.

"We're playing all this by ear because it was too time sensitive to flush anything out. I'm going in blind so I need you to buy me some time."

"How?"

"You're a federal agent. Be creative."

Morgan didn't budge.

"Why did you come along if I have to do everything?" She mumbled. "Aircraft hangers like these are usually manned by the teams shipping out goods. Occasionally someone from some department will come by and give everyone a hard time about paperwork, regulations, or illegal activity in the area. These guys are corrupt but they can't afford any problems with anyone that could seize their contraband, so they'll be compliant. Be forceful, but don't overdo. They'll kill you or call Sokolov if you make them feel cornered. The hanger on the other side of this is occupied by a Polish mob. There's history there. Play on that. Prejudice is a great distraction."

"Say no more."

"If I had to, you'd be waiting in the car." She strapped her gun with a silencer to her side and while Morgan headed directly for the hanger opening.

Frost took the roundabout way towards the back of the hanger. Staying in the blind spots of the crew on a such an open area was hard but the cover of darkness worked in her favor. She waited until she heard Morgan's voice echo around the space. The back door was shielded by the crates of fine art and other miscellaneous valuables. Kelly peeked over the top of the crates to see that Morgan had successfully corralled all four men around him, scrambling to gather the paperwork they probably didn't have.

The crates packed with the guns were almost as tall as she was. Guns were typically packed in individual hard cases but she was looking for a softer, thinner case. The crates had been nailed shut so she'd have to run a sealant over the top to keep them from being flapping open when they packed the plane. She didn't need them figuring out what Morgan had done when he didn't even have the protection of a fake government ID to make him anonymous. No matter how well-planned a diversion, it's hard to beat the instinct that tells you you've just been played.

Frost caught Morgan's eye and gestured for him to move the group away from the hanger. She needed room to make noise. She heard Morgan take them around to show them what the Polish mob had "reported" them for. Kelly probably had all of three minutes before they came back and quickly used the thin nail power saw to slice through the thin gaps on the crates. Rebecca had told her the bag was definitely near the top of the of the boxes.

First crate: nothing

Second crate: nothing

The third…..had already been opened. Kelly cursed under her breath. The bag was here but it was empty. She looked around the open space and didn't see anything resembling vest Rebecca had described. Someone had it. Someone that wasn't Sokolov. Amus had checked his personal things in his room at the Residence. He was clean, unsurprisingly. Transporting stolen goods was what the minions were for.

Morgan was walking back around with group and she sensed no tension. For such imposing man with annoying high morals, he knew how to be cordial with criminals. She took a closer look at the men he was with from her position behind a tacky statue of a naked woman.

The man speaking with Morgan was the most fluent in English and had taken control of the situation. He was confident, cooperative, and friendly. He had nothing to hide and his $700 shoes said he had no need to loot his boss' property.

The other two that flanked him were obedient and eagerly awaiting command like german shepards. They wanted approval and to move up the ranks. They didn't have the balls to pull something so underhanded off.

The man hanging towards the back, was her guy. He was defensive and spoke up in Russian trying to dismiss Morgan's presence to the others. His hands were as worn as a field hand's and the white of his eyes were brown. He either had health problems or was a habitual drinker. He was overly protective of Sokolov's honor when Morgan questioned the contents of the hanger. On the outside, it was loyalty. But his eyes shifting toward something just under the plane every now and then gave him away.

She would have to get under that plane. Kelly crawled on all fours trying to get as close as possible to the underbelly of the aircraft without being seen in anyone's peripheral. The boxes were more spaced out the closer she got to the aircraft. Everytime one of the men facing her direction blinked or wiped his face in frustration, she sped between the the gaps to find cover, just barely dodging detection. She managed to get as close to the aircraft as she could without entering the line of vision.

But there was nothing directly under the plane. She started to back crawl back and regroup until something from above caught her eye. It was hard to make out at first. Until it dawned on her.

 _I'm gonna kill Rebecca..._

Kelly adjusted her position to sit back and think. She was running out of time and the underwing of the plane presented an entirely new problem that really wasn't hers. _Where would_ I _hide a bulletproof vest?,_ she thought.

The most obvious, yet effective, answer dawned on her and she peeked back out praying in vain against what she already knew to be true.

He was _wearing_ the vest.

His thick clothing was covering it well, but he was just a bit too skinny for his chest to protrude in such a way. If she hadn't known what she was looking for, she could have easily missed.

Fantastic.

Just then her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was Amus.

 **Sokolov and I are on the way. Get out.**

Kelly managed to slip out of the hanger unnoticed and pulled her phone from her pocket.

"Morgan. Fall back. Now." Kelly hung up before he could respond and headed for the car.

Morgan didn't let Frost's abruptness show. "Alright, look I'm letting you guys off with a warning. Just have your papers ready and watch your back. I don't have time to be playing referee all day. Alright?"

" _Thank you_ , Officer. You won't see us again." The man said fervently.

Morgan gave the group once over and nodded,"I'm counting on that."

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O

Morgan slide into the warmth of the car just as a black sedan rolled into view towards the hanger. Frost stared at the car through the windshield, nursing a box of thin mints.

"You weren't kidding about the cookies."

"I never kid about thin mints."

"You get what you were looking for?"

"Nope."

"What do you mean 'No'? I played TSA for 20 minutes for nothing?"

Frost watched the Amus escort Sokolov into the hanger. "Not for nothing. Of course you may need to decide how far you're willing to go for your friend."

"Over a cliff."

Frost turned to Morgan and studied the look on his face. He didn't flinch under her gaze and whatever she was looking for, she found it and nodded.

She nodded and made a call. "Amus?"

"K.G."

"There's a bomb strapped to the gas tank of the plane. Right wing. Let the lanky one walk away first. He's got what I need and I'll handle it."

"Got it."

Kelly quickly hung up and watched as the her man walked easily with a slight bounce in his step to his car. "A bomb?" Morgan asked incredulously.

Kelly nodded once."A nice one too."

Their target pulled out of the parking area in a black sedan. Kelly waited until they he had hit the street before pulling out and following him. Evening DC traffic was still in full swing giving her full cover.

"He's probably heading to his buyer."

"Most likely."

"If he came in with them, it's gonna be obvious who did it. "

"I doubt they gave the American or Russian government an official personnel count. If the plane was still on course to crash, America would try to dispel evidence of an assassination for at least 48 hours before they officially considered internal sabotage. But he's probably trying to be out of the country before then."

After trailing the bomber for the same 2 turns, Kelly switched lanes and sped ahead of their target and taking the left while he remained Park Avenue.

"What are you doing? You're gonna lose him."

"Have you never trailed someone before?"

"Yeah, but on this street with this much traffic,we could have taken at least one more turn." Morgan pointed out.

"Two turns is a flow of traffic, three is a tail. Paranoia means we switch cars." Kelly pulled the car into a parking lot of a museum and quickly hopped out of the car into a white minivan. Morgan took a short moment to look at the public school magnets and honor roll bumper stickers littered on the back before getting in.

Morgan scoffed. "Nice car."

"Don't be judgy. There's a reason moms like these so much."

"I don't intend to ever find out."

"Really? Someone like you that thrives off a team dynamic and favors the physically weaker members of the team? There's no way you don't want to be a parent." Kelly said hopping back on the road and speeding down the Mulberry Road.

"Don't profile me. None of that adds up to driving a minivan."

"Don't knock it until you try it. No matter how well-trained anyone is, our eyes tend to glaze over when we see family cars."

"Okay up here, Mulberry pours over back on to Park. He's gotta be headed for the industrial district. Other direction is the National Mall."

"Anything past that?"

"Uh, yeah. The Hermitage. That old historic hotel they're renovating. Gtes him closer to the airport too. He might be doing a quick drop off."

"Yep."

Frost's phone rang."Yeah?"

Whatever the person on the other end of the line said, Frost wasn't happy about. She wasn't obvious about it but her face darkened for just a moment before she ended the call. She wouldn't tell him even if he asked, so Morgan kept quiet.

"There's our guy." He said. The black sedan was merging into the lane into the turning lane they were in. He was heading for the hotel at a speed just a little too high, and jerky for evening traffic.

"Someone's paranoid," Morgan noted as they pulled into the hotel parking lot. "He bit off more than he could chew with this one."

Kelly didn't answer but silently agreed and stepped out of the car. He had arrived before they had and therefore had already entered the hotel.

The Hermitage was a relic of a typical 1800's mansion that had been expanded into a from a bed and breakfast to a hotel. The first two floors were being renovated which narrowed his potential drop off areas.

Kelly scanned the lobby until her eyes landed on the back of the man they were looking for. He was staring at the TV of the Breaking News of a plane crashing just off the shore of the coast. His coat wasn't as bulky as it had been in the hanger meaning he had removed the vest. She would bet it was tucked away in the duffle bag he carried.

"Please tell me you crashed an empty plane so he wouldn't get suspicious." Morgan whispered.

"I didn't have a choice." Kelly watched the plane burn as the emergency personnel swarmed the scene looking for survivors.

"You didn't have a choice? We were all there. You could have stopped him, your friend could have. He was right there!"

"Get over it. What's done is done. What happened isn't our business."

"He should be arrested!" Morgan said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah? And how are you going to explain how you even knew?" She asked calmly. Morgan just stared at her. He should have stayed home. Kept his hands clean and let Frost to do all this alone. It was clear she had no conscious or remorse, but the death of those men would be added to his list of people he wished he could have saved since first becoming a cop. He was in too deep to turn back now. He could either take this to the grave, or allow his morals to be the pyre upon which he burned in a hearing that would ruin his career. "I thought so. Cry about it later." She said harshly.

"You're sick." The icy color of her eyes seemed to go impossibly colder, but she didn't respond.

The man broke out of his trance once the story ended and headed for the back of the restaurant. "He's avoiding the cameras on the elevator. Take the main stairwell to the fourth floor. He'll deviate if he sees you."

Morgan gave her a hard look but did as she asked. Kelly followed the man to the back room keeping her distance as he ascended up the stairwell and headed to open the door to the third floor.

Kelly waited a moment before following him and muffling the click of door closing. He strode down the hallway and dropped the bag on the floor in front of room 308. Kelly breathed a sigh of relief as he headed for the elevator. She creeped down the carpeted hallway towards the door. Just before she intercepted the bag Morgan came barrelling down the stairwell.

"Hey! Stop!" He bellowed. The man's head snapped up and pivoted on his right foot sprinting straight back into Kelly's direction. She grabbed the bag pulling over her shoulder and braced herself. When he saw Kelly he pushed past her and she allowed herself to be thrown against the wall. He really was in over his head if he didn't even try and fight for his bag back from a 120 lb girl.

The drop off door swung open to reveal a hulking man who cursed at her in arabic. Kelly swung around and spun kicked his door knocking him square in the nose. He cursed and grabbed his bleeding nose, screaming for the men behind him.

At his command, four other men emerged from the room. Kelly spun on her heel and headed towards Morgan and grabbing his hand, "Let's go!" The men in the hallway came thundering down the hall like a herd of buffalo wielding guns. As they ran back into the stairwell Morgan started to head for the lower floor until Kelly grabbed his coat spinning him around, "The lower levels are blocked off. We're going up."

Morgan started to argue until he was met in the back stairwell by four men with guns. All six burst onto the fourth floor with Frost and Morgan in the lead. There were no exits on this floor and the guys chasing them knew that as they unholstered their weapons preparing to corner. At the end of hall was an open door to a balcony overlooking the garden of the hotel. Kelly ran towards it faster and looked at Morgan beside her. His stomach dropped. Kelly hopped over the maid's trolley and kicked it back at the men who stumbled over it like pins hit by a bowling ball.

"You're out of your mind." Morgan panted looking down at the swirl of colors and greenery stories beneath their feet. "We're on the fourth floor."

"Bend your knees, roll forward on impact, and accept its gonna hurt."

Without another moment, Kelly and Morgan leapt forward, the cold air burning their lungs. The sudden impact of the ground underneath their feet followed by their backs, brought a sensation of relief knowing they had avoided a head injury, but was immediately overpowered by the shooting pain in their ankles.

Kelly recovered quickly springing to her feet and checking above her. Their pursuers were incredulous for just a moment before turning for the elevator. She pulled Morgan to his feet, ignoring his curses towards the van.

Morgan clambered into the car nursing his knee in the backseat as Frost backed out the parking lot and sped away down the road. His knee injury from his years as college football was returning with a force he hadn't felt in years. The car jerked harshly to the right and then to the left throwing Morgan into the seat next to him.

"Put your seatbelt on. I'm gonna get a ticket." Frost said over her shoulder skidding the car to the side again as she plowed through a roundabout. The car behind them was swerving recklessly trying to keep up just barely dodging the cars left on the evening road. The man driving fired four shots that popped against the glass right next to Morgan's head. "Frost, get down!"

"Not to worry. The glass is bulletproof." Frost mumbled absently. "Or rather resistant."

"You're not gonna lose them by causing an accident," Morgan bit harshly looking back at the Jeep tailing them through the cracked, yet unpenetrated glass.

"Actually, I will." Frost floored into the shoulder ahead and nearly tails spun them around the corner and mimicked the move once more before the car behind them lost control and crashed into the small drop off on the side of the road. "Offroad cars suck at fast, sharp turns."

"I can think of a million better ways we could have handled that," Morgan panted adjusting himself in his seat.

"Shutup."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"I'll send you what I get later," Kelly promised as Morgan stepped out the car. Kelly had swapped cars back out and left the van behind a warehouse for her contact to pick up. The ride back had been silent, both leaving the other with their thoughts.

Morgan nodded and shut the door without a word. Kelly watched him hobble off to his car before leaving the parking lot.

The quiet around her was suddenly heavy and her temper only made it worse. She wanted to punch something or someone. Run off the steam that had built up inside, but like always her body shut down. The anger within her simmered and made her face so hot she cracked the window to let the cool air rush in. She always had problems channeling her anger. She usually just let simmer until something else inevitably came up and pulled her away from it. Thankfully tonight she had that excuse.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

She balanced the blue ribboned boxes in one hand and stepped into the dimly lit house. She tossed her bag on the couch confident Gibbs could hear the plop against the sofa.

The sounds of voices trickled up the basement steps into the living room. Kell stilled her movements trying to place the voices. _So help me God if there's another intruder,_ she thought.

The deeper voice rose slightly and she immediately placed it as Gibbs and listened closer.

"Not everything is about me, Hol," Gibbs said exasperated.

"Well, it certainly has _never_ been about me. I mean how _could_ you not tell me, Gibbs? I feel like I'm always an afterthought to you. You don't prioritize telling me anything. I get that's how you work with your team, but I guess I assumed sleeping together would grant me the apparent privilege of knowing the more intimate details of your life."

Kelly slapped her hand over her mouth to keep herself from screaming.

Gibbs was quiet for a long moment letting Hollis' words hang in the air. "You're right."

"Is that all you've got to say?"

"What else do you want me to say, Hollis?" he whispered slowly.

Hollis gestured in a frustrated mess until she threw her hands down, exasperated and tired of fighting. "I don't know. I honestly don't anymore. Maybe that...you don't hate me for what happened that day…" Hollis trailed off weakly.

Gibbs just stared. But the silence that hung between them felt like an answer itself.

"I knew it," Hollis choked. The ghost of that day haunted her still. She had been bullheaded and tough to work with, and if that hadn't been enough, his daughter had nearly died trying to save her life. They hadn't made much time for each other since, but from her standpoint, they were still together. Sharif had reemerge, but work had distracted them from having any meaningful conversation about what had happened and in true form, Gibbs made no mention of it. The distance that had always existed between them persisted in a way that felt final. It hadn't stopped her from clawing it at desperately though.. Trying to find some way in. At the time, she'd been confused and hurt. Agent Frost wasn't a member of the team nor was necessarily her fault that Frost had been trapped under that house. But when she overheard Abby filling Palmer in about the case while he had been visiting his parents, it was like taking a bullet to the chest. Everything had snapped into place and made sense. She had chalked up the way he had acted that day as concern for a fellow agent. Something he would undoubtedly do for any other member of his team. They were obviously close and she had prayed that perhaps their dynamic was similar to the one he had with Abby. But Abby didn't make her jealous. There _had_ been something more there with Frost, but she was wildly off mark.

She had interpreted their banter as flirty, sexual even. But she could have accepted that faster than the truth.

Frost's teasing emphasis of his first name hadn't been a lover's purr, but of a young girl playing with her Dad. She felt like a fool.

"I don't hate you, Hollis, What happened that day...wasn't your fault." Gibbs looked down at his empty work table where his tools used to lie. "Don't blame you for it either."

"You must to some degree." She insisted. It felt like everyone else did.

"Nah. If anything I blame myself. For letting it happen to either of ya."

Hollis looked out the small window near the basement ceiling with peeks of grass brushing against the window suddenly wanting to leave.

"So where from here, Gibbs?"

Gibbs shook his head solemnly. "Nowhere. I'm lettin' ya go, Hol."

She had expected this but it still managed it catch her off guard. "What?"

"There's somebody out there for you. It isn't me. And I want that for you."

Hollis blinked at him feeling the tears well up in her eyes."What are you doing?"

"What I should have three marriages ago." Gibbs admitted regretfully

"So that's it? I get thrown on the pile of women that it didn't work out with either."

"No. No, 'm tryin' to keep ya off that pile."

"And this isn't about Kelly," she gestured to the name painted lovingly on the boat that she had originally thought was a girlfriend.

"No. She doesn't even know." Not really, at or without her, their relationship would have run its course, sooner rather than later. Kelly was his priority and he didn't want to risk anything coming between them. She hadn't been around for his marriages after her mom, and in it sick way, it was the only silver lining to her being taken away.

Hollis didn't know what to do with herself now. But she needed to get out this basement and somewhere where she didn't feel like an ugly secret. She wanted to argue, fight some more because it gave her a reason to stay. But the resignation of his tone killed her passion. She was drawn to Jethro like a moth to a flame. She wanted so badly to claim and get her little piece of domestic happiness that she had traded in for a career with the Army. But that wasn't meant to be. And if she were honest with herself, she knew that the first time he saw her with Jenny. Jethro had a finite amount of space in his emotional life for people and, at the moment, there were no occupancies. She could see that now. She grabbed her bag off the stool and made for the steps. She paused and turned on the bottom landing. "Goodbye, Jethro."

"Bye, Hol." He said smiled almost regretfully back at her.

Hollis tried not to race up the steps not wanting to look as pathetic as she felt. Entering the kitchen, she saw Kelly dressed in all black with her hair hanging loose around her face for once. Kelly didn't say a word from her spot perched on the counter but she had the same knowing look Gibbs did. Hers was just...colder somehow even with the flickers of sympathy that hung there. Hollis started to say something, but nothing came out. In a moment of grace, Kelly looked back down at her phone to give Hollis time to leave the house sparing her the last shred of dignity she had left. And with that, Hollis took her leave.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-00-0-

"You can come down now, Kels." Gibbs said just above his normal speaking tone.

Kelly grabbed the boxes off the counter and made her way down the stairs to the basement. Gibbs had his back to her, pouring himself a drink in one of his jars. His hands itched to make something and relieve the stress that had built up there. CDC had done away with most of his tools after Sharif had contaminated them and he hadn't had a chance to go by the hardware store for new ones.

The empty table in front of him was abruptly covered with blue boxes wrapped in darker blue ribbon. Gibbs looked up at Kelly who was staring back at him. Gibbs knew she had heard everything, but that didn't explain the look in her eyes.

Before he could ask Kelly plopped a square box into his hands and smiled. Gibbs looked at the box, then at Kelly, and the box again. He set down on the table and undid the ribbon. The top popped opened the sides fell away to reveal a vanilla icing cake with "Happy Birthday, Daddy!"scrawled in sparkling pink icing. The corners of the cake were decorated with his favorite multi-flavored macaroons and strawberries. Kelly had introduced him to the lightweight, overpriced cookies when they were out shopping and he had begrudgingly admitted to liking them.

Before he knew it a rare, genuine smile crossed his face and the stress of work and his talk with Hollis melted away. Just last year he had been staring at the flask she and her mother had purchased on his last birthday before drowning his sorrows under the boat. And now he was here with his daughter feeling light and happier than he had been in years.

"Forgot all about my birthday. How'd ya get a cake so late at night?"

"I bought it earlier and had Elaine at the diner hold it for me. She sends her wishes."

"Looks expensive. Don't have to spend so much money on me, Kels. Havin' ya here's enough."

"I either spend money you or I could throw a surprise party for you and invite the team and let them do it."

Gibbs chuckled, "Nevermind."

Kelly smiled triumphantly, "Thought so. Besides, I got the senior discount on it."

"...Senior discount?"

"Yeah. The baker on 4th thinks you're, like, 60. I think it's the hair."

"And you didn't correct, 'im?" Gibbs said cutting unceremoniously into the cake with his fork.

"Nope. An old marine once told me the importance of being fiscally responsible. Really took it to heart," she said teasingly.

"Glad I could finally get something in that thick head."

"Oh, wait. I have candles." Kelly reached into her pockets and jabbed the blue waxy sticks on the side that hadn't been eaten and sung Gibbs happy birthday. He just looked at her indulgently happy to see she was happy. Her mind had been elsewhere ever since they had moved back in the house. She finally looked _present._

"Thank you, sweetheart. Cake's good too. Is it..orange?"

"Orange creamsicle actually. I'm trying to diversify your palate, but I know rich flavors still don't sit well with your stomach."

Gibbs snorted and bit into one of the cookies, "Just happy this isn't laced in protein."

Kelly laughed unrepentantly. He had called her out on weeks ago, but had no doubt caught on months before.

"Okay, gonna tell me what's going on?"

Kelly raised an eyebrow. "Nothing. I'm fine. Why?"

"The way you looked during that Harry thing. Same look you have now. Heard a car pull in too."

Kelly felt too tired, too conflicted for the energy it would take for a facade. And she had promised him that there would be no more secrets between them. She just wasn't used to talking about what bothered her, especially when the root of her anger was a friend.

"Hey. Just tell me what's wrong, Kels. Not mad." He whispered trying to keep the fear out of his voice as he prepared for the worst.

Kelly pushed her cake aside and took a breath before telling him everything. Really it was the wall she spoke to, but Gibbs mercifully didn't force her to keep eye contact. He didn't interrupt or really react to her story. He knew it would have psyched her out. She didn't tell him anything because she didn't want him to worry. He understood. But the feeling of being on periphery of her life, of not knowing what was going when it was his job to know hurt more than anything. He didn't want her feeling like she was alone when she wasn't anymore.

"Pretty sure Morgan hates me more than he did before," she mumbled bitterly.

"What'd ya tell 'im?"

Kelly shrugged weakly, "To get over it. That it wasn't our problem or concern." She felt more ashamed repeating it now. Gibbs was silent just staring at her before he finally spoke.

"But ya weren't talking to him were you, Kelly? Talkin' to yourself."

Kelly glared at him but he just looked at her ever sympathetically. "Maybe."

"Why didn't ya do something about it?"

"Because even before I knew the plane was death-tagged, I knew I wasn't in a position to interfere. Amus was supposed to do something about it… He _didn't._ He let those men die. All of them _."_

"And a death tag..?" He could guess but he preferred the clarity.

"The Russian government ordered a hit on Sokolov and his men. His favor with the government had finally run out, and they used this guy to tie up loose ends. The plane crashed right off the coast. I'm not sure if the Russians will own up to the hit or blame the Americans. Of course, I can't tell Morgan any of this."

Gibbs nodded. "I see. Not about to tell you what ya wanna hear."

"When do you ever?"

"You were right not to interfere. And your friend, Amus, made the right call."

"I know. Running interference on a hit-"

"Makes you the next target." He finished. "Your friend knows that, and I _know_ you know that too. So where's the anger coming from?"

"Ever since I…got out. I've been trying to prevent all the death and destruction I can."

"That why you agreed to help avenge the death of an agent you never met? As penance for the things you couldn't control."

Kelly blew out a deep breath she hadn't realized she been holding. "You just gonna read me like a book all night?"

Gibbs smirked. "If that's what it takes."

Kelly paused before speaking. Almost forcing the words out that she just barely managed to find."I struggle to find fault in the things that I know are wrong to other people. I'm angry that it happened and I feel bad, but at the same time I feel like I'm at war with the side of myself that justifies it." Gibbs remained quiet so she kept going. "What Amus did today would have been fine to me had I been alone. But having Morgan there changed how I saw it."

Gibbs sighed and rubbed his hand across his face. "Been meaning to talk to ya 'bout that. Weren't sure how aware you were of it though. Don't want you walking out on me."

Kelly flushed at the memory. "I won't do that again. I promise."

"Think your moral growth is was delayed. The age where ya would have learned to accept healthy authority was disrupted by an unhealthy understand fairness and justice, but only as an end result. Way you achieve it though...isn't normal."

Kelly didn't seem surprised. He wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know. But it did confirm that her issues weren't as internal as she hoped.

Gibbs continued slowly, "You're still a teenager and what you're doing for Morgan...it comes from a place of wanting to be accepted."

"I feared as much."

Gibbs raised a brow.

Kelly gave a small smile, "I wouldn't be a very good profiler if I wasn't aware of my own hang ups."

"Yeah, I guess not."

"This is the most you've ever said at once. And with such a grasp of psychology. You've been talking to Ducky about me, haven't you?"

"No. No, I, uh, been reading." He said almost embarrassed.

"I've never seen you read anything that wasn't a report."

"Ya think I keep that old bookshelf up there for decoration?"

"Yes."

"Well, I don't. Your mom bought all these child psychology books before you were born to prepare. At the time, I just figured I'd wing it. Hell, I still am. " He laughed self-deprecatingly.

Whenever something bad happened or he and Kelly disagreed, all he could think was how Shannon would have handled it better. She had always been a natural mom. Able to anticipate Kelly's needs like a pro and keep up with every little ever changing preference about her as fast as Kelly could dream them up. Even when her mom was still alive, Gibbs felt out of step as a parent because of all the time he spent away on deployment. Most days he felt like just stumbled through trying not to mess her up too bad.

"Could have fooled me. Hope I can wing it as well as you do someday, Dad."

Gibbs shook his head "Nah, be better than me." He said getting up to toss his cake in the trash can behind her. _If she could keep them safe past age 8, she'd have me beat by a long shot,_ he thought sadly.

Kelly turned around in her stool to face him. "How can I better than the best?"

She wasn't trying to butter him up, she genuinely thought he was the best parent in the world. He could see the sincerity in her clear blue eyes. It made his eye prickle with tear. He loved his little Kelly so much it hurt.

She reminded him of Abby a bit when she did this. But where Abby saw him as an infallible hero, Kelly knew he wasn't and loved him without reserve anyway. His mood, his temper, and shortcomings all considered, Kelly always made it clear, that she loved him nearly as much as he loved her.

As usual, he didn't have the words to express what her innocent question meant to him. So he spoke with his actions and enveloped her in a hug, pressing a kisses into her hair. They would continue this conversation, but tonight she had had enough. So he whispered, "Ya aren't your past, Kels. So much more than that."

His words made hot tears spring up in her eyes, but she let them be absorbed into his USMC sweatshirt. He always knew how to take her hurt away. The smell of wood, freshly washed clothes, and aftershave that had always been her father made her feel so loved and accepted.

The anger and tension she had accumulated over the years start to finally drain from her soul, leaving her feeling lighter than before as she buried face into her dad's shoulder. She hadn't been starved for affection necessarily when she had been away. Ochoa gave hugs freely as did Priya. But it was hard to accept the affection she didn't feel like she deserved from people that were suffering because of her actions. Sardinha was just as cold as she was and, wherever he was now, she hoped he was finally allowing himself to get what she was now.

"I forgot your presents!" she said muffled by his sweatshirt. She pulled away and pointed towards the boxes.

"Not sure what else you could possibly give me."

"I do. Open them."

Gibbs reached for the gifts she had spread across the table. There had to be about seven in varying sizes. Holding the first box he deduced that the weren't socks or a new tie he'd never wear. The ribbon fell away easily, followed by the box to reveal a chisel. "Wow. Top of the line."

Gibbs looked over at the other boxes guessing what they were by the sizes. "You got me all new tools?"

"Well since the old ones were confiscated and destroyed, I figured you'd need some more soon. I hope I got the right ones." She worried. She had made some calls and while she was an okay woodworker herself, she didn't read enough on it to call herself an expert.

"They're perfect, Kels. Good weight too. Thank you."

"Open the rest. Even though you already know what they are."

Once he had opened every one, she insisted she leave him so he could get some work done.

"Ya sure? Don't mind the company." He said more for her than himself. He wanted her to know that even though it had been a long day, he still preferred her company.

She thought for a moment before giving in."Okay. Since the bullet hole in the side is my fault, I should stick around to fix."

Gibbs laughed and tossed her a sanding block. "I think I'll keep that there. Very fitting for The Kelly.'

 **Authors Note: Thank God Hollis is gone. She deserved better and they had some good times, but it was never gonna work. I do have a love interest in mind for Gibbs down the line but it may not be who you suspect ;) Also does anyone else think Ducky telling Hollis about Shannon and Kelly was very OOC for him? Like I guess out of everyone, Ducky was the only one that liked her enough for her to go to him, but Ducky is essentially Gibbs' best friend and I think Gibbs may have felt somewhat hurt by Ducky doing that. I'm gonna blame the writers because Ducky is a cupcake who would never. Until next time :)**


	20. The Space Between US

**Authors Note: I couldn't respond to your review because you're a guest.**

 **"Liked your first version better. This seems to drag. Was hoping that Grmma Fielding would discover Kelly's still alive."**

 **Lol plot twist, this is version one I just suck. I promise I'm making my way through their family members, including little Maddie. Just trying to balance the Criminal Minds** **universe** **and the NCIS one. Lots of great characters and things I want to cover, let me know if y'all are looking forward to anything specific and I'll do my best to incorporate it since this story is more open ended rather than structured. I love hearing from you guys!**

Once once secret unraveled, the entire piece falls apart. Nothing is ever as simple as it should be. Jumping out a window should have been the highlight, the climax before a nice close. But it was the just beginning. Emily Prentiss was alive and well. She had faked her own death to save her team from the demons of her past. Hotch and the blonde woman, J.J., had concealed the truth from the team.

Morgan had crumbled under the the news of the revelation. When she rounded the corner that night, a pin could have dropped and it would have sounded like a gun going off. Only Rossi looked unsurprised. Just as Kelly made to bow out and allow the team some their privacy, everything went back into motion rapidly and before she knew it she found herself in the backseat of the car next to Ian Doyle on the way to trade his life for his son's.

He was surprised to see her but gracefully said nothing in front of everyone else. Hotch rode up front with JJ both silenced by the impending consequences of what they were about to do.

"You always had a way of surprising me, Frost. This tops Kenmare by a long one." He murmured.

"Oh, I've still got it have I?" she whispered. She didn't know why. She had no innocence to protect in front of Hotch. It didn't matter what Jennifer Jareau thought. The once over she gave her, in a way she probably thought was subtle, told her that her reputation had already preceded her.

Ian was silent, lost in thought before he spoke again as the pulled closer to the jet landing.

"Be careful out there, Frost. You're agent friends aren't the only ones with scores to settle."

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O

"'I hate when people fake their death." Kelly tossed her shoes in the corner and flopped onto the couch.

"I warned you, sugar plum. All that work and all you got was taken for granted and bruised ankles. Maybe you'll finally learn this time." Ochoa said beating the whisk a little harder. Kelly had called him early to vent thinking she had woken him. But he had already been up early making a cake for his little brother's birthday.

"I should have called someone who would have felt sorry for me."

Ochoa chuckled. "Like who? Priya who told you it was good idea or Amus who had you chasing a deathtag?"

"I don't plan on speaking to Amus for awhile."

"You would have done the same thing in his position. The job has to get done. Apologies come after."

"I don't want apologies, I want to not watch 5 men burn to death on television in front of a federal agent."

"Yeah, that doesn't look good. Good thing your no good friend scored you, and the rest of us, immunity so you can't even be brought in for questioning."

Kelly rolled her eyes."Am I not allowed to be mad?"

"Oh, you can. Shouldn't be, but it's your right, babe."

A sputtering sound from outside groaned as it stopped outside. Ochoa laughed. "Your dad's truck is getting worse. I can hear it all the way in Mexico."

Kelly listened closer to the footfalls against the pavement. "Unless the he gained 50 lbs and developed a slight limp, I doubt it. Don't know how threatening I'll be lying down." She started to dig around lazily for her gun she just knew she had stored under the cushions.

"You live in the suburbs, conejito. Don't shoot the milkman." He teased.

The front door swung open, "Leroy! You in here?" A voiced boom throughout the house. It was voice she knew but hadn't heard in years.

"Grandpa?" she whispered. Why hadn't her dad told her he was coming? Before she could react, he turned the corner and startled when he saw her.

"Who are you?" her grandfather demanded.

Kelly didn't answer, for once at a loss as what to say. She looked at Choa who was staring right back at her. He nodded once and hung up.

"This is my son's house! Does he know you're here?"

"Uh, yeah. Let me give him a call." Kelly swung her legs over the couch and stepped around him to grab her phone with shaking hands. "Can I get you some coffee or something?"

Jackson stared at the young girl dressed in a pantsuit warily. She looked a bit young to be dressed so formally. _Not that I know anything about what kids are doing these days..._

Apparently he had missed out on more of Leroy's life than he thought. But he _was_ tired after the drive up here and Leroy usually kept decent coffee around.

"Sure." he grunted. Jackson set his cane down against the couch and walked off to the kitchen that looked significantly different that he last remembered. A woman had obviously left her touch all over the place. The living room set was new, the kitchen actually looked as if someone actually ate there, and he was sure he had seen potpourri sitting in the foyer.

"I assume like, uh, Leroy you take your coffee black?" She asked awkwardly.

"Mmm. Drop a bit of sugar in there would you?"

Kelly got the coffee gurgling and her own tea steaming, before she turned to him. "So...he didn't tell me to expect anyone."

"Just give it to me straight, young lady. When did your mother marry my son?"

Her knee jerk reaction was to answer 18 years ago. But that wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"I think there's been a misunderstanding."

"Well, you're not exactly busting your chops to tell me!" It was just like Leroy to marry and not tell him. He'd been lucky to get an invite to the first wedding. He'd never even met the others, just knew that there were some. When he had called last week for the first time in years, Jackson had been surprised to say the least but not unhappy. When Leroy said he wanted to see him again, it had only taken him as long to get here as it did to get the store looked after.

"Touche." Kelly stood at the ding of the coffee machine and poured Jackson his cup. Kelly set his coffee down in front of him on the table.

"I'll be back. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen."

Kelly walked outside towards the mailbox to call Gibbs praying he'd save her from this situation. His phone rang three times before he sent her to voicemail. _Of all the times to be unreachable._

She had no idea what to do, but knew Gibbs would want her to wait until he got home to do it. She missed her grandfather, Had really, really missed him, but noticed that Gibbs hadn't mentioned him since she'd been back so she kept quiet about it. That wasn't unusual since they hadn't been close even when she was young. Gibbs was tenser whenever Jackson came around in the past. Most visits would end in arguments that they thought she didn't know about, but the walls in the house had always been thin. They fought over nothing and everything all the time. Whenever Kelly spent an extended amount of time with Jackson, it was always when Gibbs was deployed. They could never stomach each other very long if Shannon wasn't there to as a buffer.

Kelly pulled the mail from the box and steeled herself to walk back in the house. She wouldn't be getting any sleep now, that much was clear.

Jackson was wandering the house when she came back. The pictures on the walls hanging having caught his interest.

"You left the kettle on the stove. Cup's on the counter."

"Oh, thank you."

"No need. Just can't take the sound of all that whistling."

Kelly grabbed her cup from the kitchen and joined Jackson back in the living room trying not to hover by her spot near the fireplace. She watched him survey the pictures of herself, her mom, and Gibbs. Kelly and Gibbs had taken on weekend to organize them all upon her insistence. Photographs of their last beach trip, her first days of school, their wedding, and a few from their time in Mexico all scattered along the wall.

"Haven't seen these in years. Never seen most 'em now that I think about it." he murmured mostly to himself. He stopped at the one of Mike Franks and Gibbs sitting on the back porch on his beach shack. They were drinking beers while Kelly sat between them on the deck floor playing with a stray dog she had found on the beach. Maria had snapped the picture one afternoon when they weren't looking.

"Should I even bother asking about all this or you gonna side step it like you've been doing everything else this morning?"

Kelly gave him a small smile.

"Thought so. As long you're being less than forthcoming can I at least have more coffee or you gonna pussyfoot 'round bout that too?" Kelly bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

"I think I can manage that. Will you be staying for awhile?" The coffee was still nice and hot as she poured him another mug and made herself a fresh cup of tea. Jackson settled onto the large couch with a deep sigh.

"Not too long. Still got a store up in Stillwater to run. He tell you anything about that?"

"He has. You're the only shop in town from what I hear."

"That's right. For the last few decades. Stillwater hasn't changed much and none of those superstores have any interest in small towns so I get to keep my food on the table."

"He ever come up to help with the store. Handling it by yourself must be tiring."

Jackson chuckled. "Keeps these old bones movin'. But Leroy's never shown much interest. He's got his own life up here, anyhow. Hasn't really been home much since he joined the Corps."

"You've missed him." It wasn't a question. He hid it well, but he missed having Gibbs around. No doubt age had made the loneliness more acute. Kelly's heart ached for her grandfather. They'd had so much fun together before it all fell apart.

"Mmm. I guess I have. He was so angry the last time I saw him, when he called I almost knocked over my good plates. Figured the next time Leroy bothered to come see me, I'd be 6 feet down."

"No, I imagine this has been a long time coming. He's had a rough few months."

"He alright?" Jackson asked his voice raising just a pitch in worry.

"Yeah, he's fine. He just needed time to gather his bearings a bit." She knew she was understating all this massively, but just because he had called to make amends didn't mean he wanted his personal issue laid bare.

"Oh, well. I wished he would have told me. Would have wanted to take care of him." Jackson lamented. Jack prayed it wasn't something too serious. The rift between them had grown so wide he knew that if Leroy died, he'd be the last to know.

Kelly shrugged. "You know how he is. He probably didn't want to burden you with it."

Jackson stared at the black, steaming liquid in his mug. "Leroy's never been a burden to me. Wish he knew that."

Kelly did too. Jackson had never been a man of overwhelming affection, but if Jackson was willing to pull his head out his own behind then so could Gibbs.

Kelly glanced at the clock on the wall. It was just now approaching 8am.

"Stillwater's a long way from here. You must have driven through the night to get here. Let's get you set up in Gibbs; room for a nap."

"I'd like that actually. This coffee's not making much of a difference."

Kelly helped Jackson up to Gibbs' room and retrieved his things from the car for him.

"Okay, I'll be just down the hall getting some rest too. Don't hesitate to wake me or head downstairs to watch tv."

Jackson laughed."I forgot how much sleep teenagers need. Speaking of, why aren't you in school? It's a weekday and the middle of September."

"I went to an alternative program. Finished early." It wasn't a lie really. She had gotten an education, just not a conventional one.

"Ah, I see. That new age schooling. Your mom and Leroy must be proud."

Kelly smiled a bit sadly. "I hope so."

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O

Gibbs made it home just after 8pm dead on his feet and starving. He prayed Kelly had been sweet enough to cook. Takeout just wasn't gonna cut it tonight. The house lights were on meaning Kelly wasn't out on assignment tonight, thankfully. The warmth of the fireplace and the smell good southern cooking assaulted his senses the second he opened the door. He sent a thank you up to whoever was listening for blessing him with a daughter that genuinely enjoyed cooking.

"Dad? That you?"

"Yeah, Kels, it's me."

Gibbs rounded the corner and found her turning off the stove top in one of his NIS shirts and leggings. She turned to face him. "Busy day?"

"Mmhmm. Could definitely say that." Some terrorist had sent them on a scavenger hunt around the city defusing bombs and collecting corpses. The team had really hunkered down and managed to find him before his big finale. It was over now, so there was no reason to bring the gloom home with him. "What about you? Wrap everything up with Morgan?"

"Oh, yeah. You won't believe how that ended."

Gibbs laughed and sat heavily in his chair at the table. Kelly glanced out the front window over his head like she was looking for someone.

"You expecting someone?"

Kelly met his eyes and concluded there was no way he could have known Jackson was here. At first, she thought he was trying to surprise her or something, but that was out of character. From the look on face, it was clear he had no idea.

"Don't be mad, okay?" She cautioned, sitting down right across from him.

"Jesus, Kelly what have ya done now? It's been a long day."

She cut right to the chase. "Grandpa's here."

"What?!"

"He walked in on me this morning right after I got home. Almost tossed me out too."

Gbbs laughed despite himself. "He hasn't changed. Where's he at now?"

"He insisted on going to the store for ice-cream to go with the pie he was trying to make." Kelly nodded over to the mess on the kitchen island.

Gibbs nodded still trying to absorb everything. He needed some coffee. "You okay? He wasn't supposed to come down here like this."

She nodded. "He assumes I'm your stepdaughter. Or at least I think he hopes. He knows there's something we haven't told him."

Gibbs leaned back, "Your call, Kelly. We'll tell him whatever you're comfortable with."

Kelly stared out the window weighing her options. "Grandpa's too old for the whole truth. There's nothing to gain from him knowing it either. It was only a matter of time before someone from before recognized me or starting asking questions."

"Agreed."

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-O

"You'd think in this whole dang town there'd be a decent tub of old fashioned vanilla ice-cream. Took me forever just find something that wasn't covered in something or oozes god know what else." Jackson groused as he entered the house again.

Gibbs looked up from helping set the table to look at his dad. Time had been kind to him. The past eight years hadn't changed the old man much. If anything, he was more himself than before.

"Hey, Jack."

"Oh. Leroy. You're back." Jackson sounded surprised. He didn't know why, he had been waiting for him all day. He came down here so quickly he didn't even stop to think what he would say when he arrived.

"Uh, yeah. I see you met..." Gibbs trailed off looking at Kelly not knowing what they should call her.

"Yeah, spooked her good too. Wouldn't have happened of you'd told me you'd gotten married again and had a stepdaughter."

"How about we all sit down? Food will get cold." Kelly interjected. Jack's tone would only rile Gibbs up and make him forget that he was trying to make amends.

Everyone dug in without a word, and avoiding eye contact. Kelly shifted in her seat knowing she was the room's elephant.

"So," Jackson wiped his mouth with his napkin, "is your wife not joining us?"

Kelly took a deep breathe before Gibbs continued. "No, Jack. Still divorced. Got something to tell ya though."

Jackson looked between them suspiciously. "Leroy, if you tell me this is your girlfriend so help me God..."

"Why does everyone think that?" Kelly murmured, disgusted.

"No, Jack, why-"

Jackson pointed his fork at him accusingly, "If you woulda adopted her, you'd have said that by now."

"Listen for once, will ya?" Gibbs almost yelled.

Jackson narrowed his eyes but stayed silent.

"It's about Kelly."

" _Kelly?_ You mean..?"

"Yeah. When Shan and Kelly got into their accident you know what happened. Shannon...passed," he choked out, "but Kelly made it and was placed in witness protection."

"I don't understand, son."

"I didn't either. Marshalls thought it best because Kelly saw the shooter earlier that day. He was following 'em. She could have identified 'im in court. They wouldn't have stopped til..."

Jackson shook his head like he didn't believe Gibbs. Suddenly the room around Jack was too small, too tight, and so _hot._

"I don't believe you. You call me down here to feed me this crap. To twist the knife in? Like everything after the funeral wasn't enough?!" He boomed, slamming his cane down on the floor.

"Jack, calm down!" It sounded ridiculous to his own ears. He certainly hadn't been calm when Kelly had told him.

"No, Leroy! You think I haven't suffered?! Ya weren't the only that lost somethin' that day."

"You think I don't know that? I wouldn't lie to ya. Not about Kelly." The look in Gibbs' eye made the realty sink in for Jack. _This can't be happening…_

He wasn't angry at his son. He was angry at the situation and Kelly being brought up again only reminded him of another woman he loved and lost long before he was ever ready to. But once again, he was taking his anger, his frustration with the world out on his son. He wanted this to be real. But God knows he was scared.

"Where? Where's she now?" Jackson asked, desperate to see her for himself and scared to hope all at once.

Gibbs just looked over to his left, where the girl he had met this morning sat quietly picking at her the sleeves of her long sleeved NCIS shirt. The habit brought up memories of a little brown haired girl doing that whenever her grandfather and father argued in front of her.

"Look up," he said harsher than he meant to. Her head snapped up obediently looking uncertain and glancing at Gibbs. She didn't quite know why she was nervous, only that she was.

Jack studied her feature closely. She had her father's easy smile, calm demeanor, and eyes. His old eyes could see what was in front of them, but he wasn't processing it. The little girl from his memory and this one in front him was one and the same. Minus the sliver in her eyebrow she hadn't changed at all.

"Kelly…all day it was you that…?" Jack asked. His eyes burned with the tears he hadn't allowed to fall that day, wanting to be strong for his son.

"Yeah. I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier, Grandpa, I didn't think you'd believe me without Dad being here." The tears wet his cheeks as soon as he heard her call him "grandpa." It was like hearing her voice for the first time that day.

"C'mere, sweetie." Kelly stood with him cautiously. He cupped her cheeks with his hands looking at her closely, holding her like she would disintegrate right in front of him. "So much like my Annie. Still your daddy's twin too."

Jethro mouth tugged at one corner."Looks nothing like me, Jack."

Kelly wiped Jackson's tears with her sleeves. Seeing him or her dad cry was so strange. They were the strongest men she knew it upset her to see him so vulnerable. "You kidding me? She looks like you with a wig on."

Kelly furrowed her brows, "I look like a man?" Priya had always said she'd be a cute boy but she never put much thought to it.

"I see you still only hear half of what's being said." Jackson chuckled.

"Oh, yeah that's Kelly alright," Gibbs laughed.

"Wait, who else knows?" Jackson asked. Their family had always been small with Leroy being an only child and Jack's his sister dying young.

"No one. Just you and Dad. Nana doesn't know anything yet. Neither does Baba. It's only been since this summer."

"This summer? It's been that long?"

"Came and surprised me in Mexico."

"Why were you in Mexico."

"Short-lived retirement." Gibbs said and left it at that. No need to add more shock to the evening.

The oven dinged as the apple pie finally finished cooking and Kelly volunteered to go and cut everyone a slice. Gibbs cleared the table of all the plates and tossed them in the dishwasher.

It had become a habit in his own house that any family discussions were handled in the living room around the fireplace with pie and ice cream.

Gibbs joined his father in the living room on the couch near the window. It was the closest they had been physically in years.

"It's good to see you again, Leroy."

"Good to see you again too, Jack."

Kelly was trying to give them room to talk some more, have their own discussion while she fussed around in the kitchen but she should have known better. While Jack wasn't as taciturn as Gibbs, neither were the emotional type. They'd probably never reach common ground, that was apart of their relationship. With those short statement, they had put it all behind them.

Kelly finally emerged from the kitchen to find them both relaxed with Jackson updating Gibbs about the lives of some of the people in town.

"...How'd Stevens, of all people, make the force?"

Jackson laughed, "Guess they figured recruiting the town menace would restore peace. Channel all the energy towards something decent for once."

"Okay," Kelly sung, "three apple pies with vanilla ice cream and caramel drizzle."

"Using moms recipe, Jack?" Gibbs asked taking the plates from Kelly who sat in the corner of the L-shaped couch.

"Only one worth repeatin'. Can't promise it'll taste the same though."

"I don't have any point of comparison, but this is actually really good. I didn't know you could bake, Grandpa."

"Sure ya did. We baked a cake with that Penny girl from next door. Sandra Little's daughter."

"Grandpa, we burned that cake. We almost set the kitchen on fire, and Penny hid in the closet until the firemen showed up."

"If I had any doubt you were Kelly before, that's gone now. Not even Shannon knew that."

"When did this happen?" Gibbs asked around a mouthful of pie.

"You were deployed then. I spent spring break with Grandpa while mom was visiting Grandma."

"Swore the whole block and the fire department to secrecy after that. No way your grandma would have let me see you unsupervised after that." Jackson chuckled at the memory.

"Ya bribed them just to keep Joann in the dark?" Gibbs asked.

"Well, I sure didn't give the firemen 40% discounts for my health."

Kelly and Gibbs laughed. Trouble always seemed to find them whenever she and Jackson spent time together. He always knew how to make her laugh whenever she was feeling sad or missing her dad when he was away.

Later that night, Gibbs and Jackson cut on the game. Gibbs usually listened to the game on his radio but it brought back one of the few memories he had of he and his father getting along. Kelly like football, and tolerated basketball. But baseball bored her to tears and she was out like a light.

Jackson pulled the blanket thrown over the couch gently onto Kelly. "What's she like now, Leroy?" he whispered.

"Smart, funny, stubborn as all hell." Gibbs smirked.

"Driving ya crazy already?"

"Not on purpose."

"If she's anything like you were," he chuckled,"well, I'm praying for ya, Leroy."

"I think I coulda raised a son like me."

Jackson scoffed. "Leroy, if you had a son anything like you, you'd kill him."

"Kelly's driven me up the wall more than once. Not sure that girls are any easier."

"They aren't, but she's got you wrapped around her little fingers. Always has."

Gibbs didn't even bother denying it. Kelly had made him soft in more ways than one. "Yeah. Yeah, she does."

"You needed that. Always were a little hot headed. God gives men with bad tempers daughters."

The two sat in silence watching the rest of the game for the night before Jack went to call it night. Gibbs shook Kelly awake ignoring her insistence that she would sleep on the couch so Jack could have her room. But Gibbs wouldn't have it. He had slept on the couch for years before, and he honestly preferred it most nights to sleeping in the master bedroom without the woman he thought he'd share his life with.

Sleeping alone on the couch was different this time around. His house was fully occupied with his remaining family members in each corner of the house. Despite being a lifetime loner, Gibbs liked being surrounded by the people he loved. He grumbled and rolled his eyes whenever his team came over for the holidays or insisted on spending Christmas together, but he secretly loved it.

Facing Jack after all these years had been easier than he thought, but also harder. But it softened his heart knowing that at the passing mention of wanting to see him his father and had packed up made the trip without a thought. After years of bad blood between them, he hadn't thought twice about seeing him again after almost of decade of radio silence. Gibbs would have dragged his feet about making the trip had the roles been reversed. He wasn't proud of that fact, just aware of it. But if had been Kelly in his place to finally make the call after not speaking to him for years, he'd be on the highway before she could hang up.

In the morning he'd phone to Joann and Mac. It was time to repair the burned bridges and stop avoiding the past. They all deserved a better future. Together.


End file.
